


Brothers In This World, Lovers In Our Other

by therogueheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (not) unrequited love, AU, Accidental Falling In Love, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Siblings, Consensual Underage Sex, Dry Humping, Enthusiastic Consent, Falling In Love, Fantasy games, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Frottage, Gaming Community - Freeform, Ironspider - Freeform, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Protective Tony Stark, RPG Games - Freeform, Semi-Public Sex, Sibling Incest, Siblings, Slow Build, Slow Romance, Soft!Tony Stark, Starker, Video & Computer Games, handjobs, heavy kissing, not very creative gamer tags, slight angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therogueheart/pseuds/therogueheart
Summary: Based upon a tumblr text post.When Peter's older brother moves away for college, Peter finds solace in an online RPG game. When his character falls in love with another, he doesn't expect to find love in the exact (almost) same place.Please note this fic is incest.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Peter Parker, Tony Stark/Steve Rogers (Only Mentioned)
Comments: 89
Kudos: 236





	1. Chapter 1

Tony leaves on a Thursday. Its a four hour trip to MIT, and Howard suggested leaving early to avoid the bulk of the morning traffic. It lands Peter on the doorstep of their mansion at 5am, shivering in the September chill and blinking away tears that have nothing to do with the cold.

The trunk shuts on the last bag, and Peter swallowed hard. This was it. He'd always wondered what it felt like, to lose someone. Tony wasn't dying; but he _was_ leaving.

What was that saying? _I hate to see you leave, but I love to watch you go_.

Tony looks good. His hair styled with a thin dusting of spray, his shirt tight and his jacket buttery leather that Peter wanted to bury his face in and never surface from. The girls at MIT were gonna eat him alive.

Or, knowing Tony, it would be the other way around. His brother always was a charmer.

"Peter?"

He blinked. A single, fat tear rolled down his cheeks and it took him a moment to realise that Tony must've called him a few times. He was stood at the bottom of the steps, left foot braced on the first (last?) of them. Maybe Peter was imagining it, but Tony’s eyes looked wet. It could’ve been the crisp morning air. 

Howard hadn’t bothered to come outside. He’d said his tight farewell over supper that night. Peter didn’t have to look to know Maria would be in one of the windows above, like a melancholy Jane Eyre character. Her loyalty to Howard would always come first. Peter tried his best to resent her for it. 

“Do you have to leave?” He mumbled, swiping angrily at his jaw where the tear tickled as it slowed. He knew it was stupid. Tony was four hours away. Peter could visit him every single day if he wanted to. And yet...Not having Tony _right there_ , not being able to roll over, to knock on his bedroom wall and hear that answering knock...

“C’mere, puppy” Tony murmured, holding his arms out. Peter bolted down the steps so fast his heel skimmed one and he slipped the final four into Tony’s arms, sagging into them with a gasp. His heart hammered against the solid warmth of Tony’s chest, and the leather felt even softer under his fingertips. 

“You’re acting like I’m dying” Tony murmured into his temple, lips curving into a smile. Peter gave a watery laugh, gathering his legs under himself and wrapping his arms around him. Howard would scold him for it later, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

MIT didn’t allow visitors on campus for the first month of term. 

“If you die up there, I swear. I’ll...I’ll science you back to life just to shout at you” he sniffled, and cradled the sound of Tony’s laughter close to his chest. They clung together for a little while longer, until Tony pulled away with a regretful sigh, one hand sliding briefly through his hair. 

“I’ll call you, every single day. And right before bed, too. And if you need help with your homework, we can still do that. And when you can visit, I’ll be waiting right there at the gates for you” Tony promised as he slipped into the car, shut the door but let the window roll down as the engine warmed. 

Tony looked at him for the longest time, and Peter couldn’t stop himself, diving through the open window to let his mouth slide messily across Tony’s cheek. They didn’t do that often. Not after Howard saw it once. It became a treasured thing; something special between them. 

When even the sound of the engine had faded, Peter locked himself in his room. Anita, their current housemaid, brought him his breakfast with a quiet knock to the door. And when Peter didn’t surface after that, his supper, too. She didn’t try to pity or soothe him when he opened the door, his eyes red and his cheeks ruddy. She just gave him a gentle smile, palmed him a painkiller, and told him to rest. 

Tony text him twice that day. Once to say he’d arrived, and the second a lengthy paragraph complaining about his dorm. Peter reminded him primly that Tony _had_ chosen to go for ‘the whole experience’. Tony didn’t call him, even though Peter stayed up until the sun broke through his window. But that was okay. Tony was tired. 

Howard’s rant didn’t soothe the hollowness in his gut that Tony left. Nor did Maria’s gentle pity. Anita left extra cookies on his desk once she’d cleaned his sheets, and life went on. Tony called that night. He looked sleepy, a little rumpled. It made Peter roll over onto his stomach, eyes roaming the screen. Tony looked...Soft. Sweet. It made Peter’s heart clench. 

They talked. Until Peter was half-asleep and Tony’s voice was raspy. Tony showed him the room; decently sized and relatively fancy. Introduced Peter briefly to Steve. Steve was tall, hunky already. Even from the brief flash that Peter caught, right before he slipped into the en suite, he could tell he was attractive. 

It made his stomach flop. Made something tiny and acidic curl in his gut as he watched the cheeky smile that Tony sent him, the fond look even as Steve slipped out of sight. Tried not to think about how their call ended pretty soon after that. 

At school the next day, Peter was so morose that even Gwen, MJ’s usually stand-off-ish girlfriend, bought him a muffin at lunch. “It’s like seeing a kicked dog. Smile or be sad in the toilets like regular people” she’d grumped, though there’d been something soft in her eyes. 

He found the website that night, laying in bed and waiting eagerly for Tony to call. Peter’s tumblr was mostly aesthetic stuff, photography. Fashion. Science and space. He was scrolling with minimal interest, until a screenshot caught his attention. It was a landscape, flowery and saturated. It almost looked real. 

_FantasyStar-LifeOnline.com_

Peter squinted at it dubiously; but his interest was piqued enough that he clicked the link. Tony had designed software for his laptop, stuff that made sure he didn’t get viruses and malware. The page that loaded was colourful, with segments of text in darker boxes and other little video boxes that showed clips of the game. It was MMORPG. The thought made Peter tingle all over. 

One hour later, and he’d completely forgotten that Tony was even supposed to call. The site asked for a $6.99 fee per month, but even in the first five minutes of playing, Peter knew it would be worth that minuscule portion of his allowance. The game welcomed him with text and clips and tutorials. A small pixie in a suit of armour guided him around making his account, and then the first steps of choosing his character. 

Peter fell asleep on his laptop that night, and it didn’t even occur to him until the morning that Tony hadn’t called. 

**[The King] Hey, Petey. Sorry I can’t call tonight. I’m hitting pre-Freshers with Stevie. Sleep tight. [23:41]**

Peter blinked fuzzily at his phone, the imprint of the keyboard across his left jaw. It was the second time in a week Tony had failed to call, and Peter’s heart twisted painfully as he tried not to think that this was how it might be. That this might be their new normal. 

_Stevie_. 

Peter sent back a cheerful, accepting response and scrambled to shower. To his surprise, Tony actually text him at lunch, and the rest of Peter’s classes dissolved into sneaking his phone out under the desk, that dark and angry little thing within him settling. It was fine. Tony was just having a busy first week. Things would go back to his promised normal soon. 

**[The King] You’d love it here, puppy. They’ve got a whole department just for the stars. I’ll show you when you come to visit. [13:08]**

**[The King] Even the food here is good. I’ll feed you some. Sneak you into the lunch hall if I gotta. They have a small one here, kinda like high school, but we’ve all got dorm kitchens, too. [14:16]**

Peter was so high on the warm, floaty feeling of Tony’s attention that he almost forgot about the game until his phone chimed, to let him know that he had a free welcome gift waiting for him. The curiosity drove him to excuse himself from the table, fleeing to his room where he flipped open his laptop and tossed his phone aside. Tony hadn’t messaged for a while anyway. 

FSLO loaded with the same soft, tinkly tune. Saturated though the landscape was it was still...Peaceful. Calming. Your first few hours of play were guided, like a tour. Peter learned which combinations of his keys did which actions. Learned how to connect his mic to actually talk, or how to initiate chat using the text boxes. Learned what different symbols meant and different things in relation to the status and wealth and type of character. 

Peter had chosen a ‘fae’. Delicate, elven people with talents in crafting and nature. Peter learned he could ‘sway’ people, too. Have a mild influence on their actions or words that the physical player had minimal control over. His character was slender, about his height. The options to model were extensive, and Peter ended up with a milky-pale, heart-jawed version of himself. His eyes were bright blue and his hair was white with lavender and peach tips, and his outfit was the basic shirt and pants that all characters were given to begin. 

He learned characters could fall in love. 

Tony called. Peter almost missed it, so deeply invested in exploring ‘Welcomeria’. The first initial ‘land’ that all players spawned in. Peter slammed his laptop shut and threw himself across his bed, breathless by the time he swiped the call. Tony was walking this time, the clopping sound of his shoes smooth on the audio, the night sky moving around him. He looked good in the dim light, like some sort of model. It made Peter want to be there, to hold his hand on a romantic night walk. To kiss him and see if the September air made his lips cold. 

“Hey, puppy. Sorry I’m calling a little late” Tony murmured at the screen, and Peter could do nothing but make a soft sound in response. _Puppy_ on Tony’s tongue always made his cock flush between his thighs. Tony had given him the nickname when Peter was younger, so awe-struck by his cool older brother that he’d followed him around everywhere, _like a puppy on a leash_. 

"It's okay" Peter dismissed immediately, propping himself up on his pillows. Tony's gaze fell to the screen, the camera a little low angled, and he stared at Peter for a short while, his footsteps slowing. This soft, gentle expression settling on his features as Peter begun to squirm. 

"What?" He asked self-consciously. Could Tony see his laptop in the background? Was the music still playing? A brief glance said no to both. Tony's smile only grew in size and tenderness, and then he begun to walk gain, head lifting to watch where he was going. 

"Nothing. Just looking at you. I don't know, I half expected you to look different for some reason. It's only been a few days and I already feel like I've been away for years" Tony hummed quietly in response. Peter got it. It had only been a few days, but already Tony's bare room was nothing but a ghostly square of memories. A bare bed and curtains. Even the lingering scent of Tony's aftershave was fading from the air. The words let Peter imagine that they were lovers, not bothers. That Tony wanted to look at him in more ways than platonic, brotherly Face-Times in the early nights. 

He wanted Tony to see him naked. Wanted Tony to see him open and slick. Wanted Tony to see him on his knees, eager, ready to please. 

"Peter?" Tony asked, a little louder, looking at him in amusement. It reminded Peter of the day Tony left, except instead of looking kind of sad, Tony now just looked entertained. He flushed and shifted on the bed, trying to ease the pressure of his interested cock. Laying on his stomach did nothing to help, but he didn't want to risk changing positions now. 

"Sorry. Just...Same, I guess. Looking at you. You look the same" he fumbled, ducked his head away from Tony's soft chuckle. "Where are you headed?" He asked after a pause, to distract from the present topic. he could see the lapels of Tony's long, woollen pea coat, upturned towards his jaw. It must be brisk up there, then. Tony glanced back at the screen for several long seconds. 

"Just back to the dorms. I had food with Stevie tonight, at this burger diner just outta campus. I met this awesome guy - His name is James. But I call him Rhodey. That's his last name, Rhodes. He's smart and kinda snappy. Feels like he's gonna be that 'Dad' friend, you know?" 

Peter listened with a smile, but inside that sad little cloud begun to fill his veins again. Suddenly, having a special nickname from his older brother didn't feel so special. Apparently, Tony tossed them out like fast-food wrappers. It made him feel rather stupid, to have latched onto it so much that his gamer tag for FSLO had been 'SciencePup2001'. 

"Pup? You keep zoning out. Am I boring you?" Tony asked after a beat, and he was teasing, but there was something of concern in there too. Peter shifted on the bed, comfortable now that his sadness had effectively strangled his arousal, and shook his head. 

"No, sorry. I'm listening. I'm just a little sleepy. I've been up studying. Y'know, learning stuff. Keeping busy" he lied. Well. Half-lied. Despite Peter's deep attraction to FSLO, he wasn't falling behind in his classes. Not that it had been long enough, regardless. Tony would be proud. In their infrequent calls Tony had been vested in making sure that Peter was keeping up with his studies, doing well. 

_Who knows, puppy. Maybe I'll do another course at University and we can be here together. If MIT is still your goal._

"There's my little brother. So, how's the family? And by that; I mean you. And how's Ned? And the scary cute girl?" And before Peter knew it was late-late night again, and his eyes were drooping as Tony propped the phone on his desk, shrugging off his coat and kicking off his shoes. They spoke in increments as Tony got ready for bed, and Peter dragged himself to do the same, giggling around his toothbrush as Tony quietly sang "Brush, brush, brush! Left, right, left! Up and down then all around!" Like he'd done when Peter was little and teaching him to brush his own teeth wasn't something Howard considered a parental responsibility. 

They slipped under their respective covers and got comfortable. Tony's bedding was the same as it had been back home, royal blue sheets with gold edging. Peter's were a deep, burnished red. Edged with the same blue on Tony's. He'd gotten them custom made, both sets. A luxurious Christmas present when Peter had turned 13. 

"Alright, sweetheart. You gonna go straight to sleep now?" Tony asked, nuzzling into his pillow and shifting around to get comfortable. In the background Peter could see Steve's bed. Silver-grey sheets with matching pillows. The light clutter on his desk already. The book half-open on his pillows. 

"Yes. Of course. Straight to sleep" Peter agreed, even though it hadn't quite been an order. He was lying. After Tony blew a kiss at the screen and disconnected, he was crawling across the sheets, pulling his laptop up off the floor. FSLO greeted him with the 'having a nap' screen that would show if you were inactive for a long period of time, and Peter lost another night to wandering around, experimenting and greeting the players he came across. 

He fast learned how to spot the 'top' players and the 'rich' players. They were decked in the finest their character styles had to offer. Mages had flowing robes and intricate, tall staffs that glowed with power. Knights were tall, beastly characters in suits of shiny armour in various colours. Some had capes, some had long swords or two swords. Shields with sigils they'd paid to create. 

He met another elf, not one of the 'top' players but definitely having played longer than him. ForestNymphette was a sweet girl from Toyko who spoke very good english, though they only spoke through the chat boxes. She taught him how to add friends, so that he could see when they were online and where they were in game. Before leaving she gave him several potions and items, to help him get started. It was early morning hours by the time he reluctantly logged off, and he regretted it deeply when he crawled downstairs for breakfast. 

Howard wasn't present, but Maria was, and she eyed him carefully over the rim of her mug. "Sweetheart. Are you unwell? You have _awful_ dark circles. And your skin tone..." She pointed out, in a way that felt both sympathetic and insulting. He offered her the brightest smile he could manage, shoving a mouthful of omelette into his mouth and finishing it before answering her. 

"I'm alright, honest, Mother. I've been up studying. I'll go to bed early tonight and I'll be fine" he assured her, and the delicate lines between her brows smoothed out. He ate quickly, eager to get to school to talk to Ned about his discovery. Ned was more into 'boyish' RPG games, but no doubt he'd find the complexity and visuals of it as breathtaking as Peter did. "I'm leaving now, Mother. I'll see you after school" he departed, with a delicate kiss to her cheek. Happy was awaiting him outside, and bore Peter's chatter with his usual stoic expression. Happy was never happy. It was part of why he was called Happy - A nickname Tony had given him. 

Perhaps Puppy really wasn't as special as Peter had once thought. 

Ned was waiting for him at his locker, cheerful despite the fact he appeared to be suffering a cold. The morning was lost to hushed whispers and photographs Peter had taken on his phone, and at lunch they fled to the library, giggling in their delight at finding out that the high school's blocking software hadn't caught on to FSLO. Ned was, predictably, amazed by the quality of the graphics and the variety of players. Ned found Peter's character hilarious, and by the end of lunch had firmly decided that 'pastel pixie' was his new nickname. 

"I'm not even a pixie! I'm an elf" Peter argued, voice high in complaint as Ned snickered into his phone, already, updating Peter's caller ID. When Peter checked his own, he found a text from Tony. He felt surprised and ashamed that he hadn't noticed his phone vibrate. 

**[The King] Told Stevie about you today. He thought you were my actual puppy. You'd make a cute puppy. I think you'd be small and fluffy. Maybe a collie type? [12:12]**

Peter flushed. 

He could be Tony's puppy. He could crawl on all fours for him, look pretty in a collar. Could lap at Tony's cock like it was his favourite treat. 

God. Peter choked and pushed himself to his feet, using his jacket to conceal the strain at his hips. "I gotta - I'll - Need to take a call. I'll meet you at Lit?" He wheezed out, to Ned's amused and mildly baffled nod. Peter wasn't stupid enough to try and jerk off at school, but he did splash his face with cold water in the bathrooms before sitting in a stall, digging his heel into his crotch until the pain and awkwardness overrode the throbbing desire to call Tony, to beg him for it. When he slunk back into English Lit, Ned eyed him like he knew roughly what or why Peter had run away for, but didn't say anything except to ask about the homework. 

**[Me] Would that make you one of those big, regal types? Like the fancy ones at dog shows? [13:26]**

"Oh, hey. How's Tony doing at college?" Ned whispered, halfway through the class when they were furiously scribbling down notes on The Ways We Love. Peter jerked, pen dragging across his page, before he forced himself to give a light cough and a grin. 

"Pretty good, I think. He texts me most of the time, and we've Face-Timed a lot. I think he's super excited about his classes. He sad they've got this like, space room? And he'll take me to see it, when I visit. His roommate seems nice, too. He mentioned making a friend, too" Peter whispered back, glancing up at the desk to make sure Mrs. Halmen wasn't eagle-eyeing them. Ned grinned at him, excited about the mention of Peter visiting. 

"You gotta like, give me a digital tour, dude. I mean, at least we'll know where everything is when we both go, right?!" He hissed, and was immediately hushed. Ned ducked his head guiltily, and was unaware of the way that Peter's stomach twisted. _Maybe we can go to MIT together. I'll take another class._

God. He wouldn't cope. It made his mouth go dry. He and Ned had planned to go to the same college since they'd proclaimed themselves best friends aged eight, and had settled on MIT after hours of research, potentially initiated by Tony's casual mention of his intended placement. Peter, a lovestruck barely-teen, had immediately decided that where Tony went; he would follow. Ned had been all too happy to agree to such a place, especially when Peter promised to help out with the financial means. 

The rest of his classes that day passed by fairly quickly. Determined not to face another cold wash, Peter steadily ignored his phone, tucking it into his backpack so that he wouldn't notice if it vibrated. MIT would be a no-go if he failed his highschool classes, anyway. He was given homework for History, and then it was the anticipated hour of freedom. Ned prattled on about his plans to convince his parents he _needed_ the new Lego Jurassic Park set, and Peter shyly admitted he was going to start his homework, before spending the night on FSLO. Ned didn't judge him or question it, demanding a screenshot if Peter found any freaky or entertaining characters. 

Peter walked the final distance from Ned's turn off to home, and made his way straight upstairs to shed his shoes and hang up his bag. He had some time before he'd be called down for dinner, so he made a start on his history homework. It was a relatively easy assignment, a short essay on a historical event of his interest, and he set up his desk, opening his books and loading up relevant pages on his laptop before he shrugged out of his school outfit and into something his parents would find more appropriate for dinner. 

One relatively smart shirt and pair of jeans later, and he padded downstairs just as Anita was walking up them to collect him. She offered him a warm smile, turning on her step so they could walk in tandem. "Are you feeling better now he is not so estranged?" She asked softly as they walked, and he offered her a weak smile. Anita was quite possibly the only person he suspected knew about his...Crush. She'd never said it outright, but sometimes she said things or looked at him in ways that Peter could only describe as _knowing_. 

"Its not quite the same, but its nice. He's happy" Peter shrugged, and Anita left him at the entrance to the dining room. Howard and Maria were already sat when he walked in, Maria with her glass of wine and Howard with his double whiskey. At Peter's place, a glass of chilled cranberry juice awaited him. Peter couldn't help his gaze sliding to Tony's preferred seat as he slid into his own, his heart aching for the times when Tony would fork-feed him cheesecake or hold his hand under the table whenever Howard went off. 

Maria offered him a gentle smile as he settled, draping a napkin across his thighs, and Howard gave him the customary nod. Almost as soon as Peter was settled the waitstaff approached, setting a plate of seasoned vegetables and sauced meat. Once they'd left, Howard picked up his fork and took the first bite of potato, and Maria and Peter followed. The meat turned out to be lamb, tender and with a hint of red wine. Peter was no more than three bites in when Howard asked the usual opening question. 

"How did you do at school today, Peter?". 

It was never 'how was school today?' Because that implied that Howard cared about anything except Peter's behaviour and his grades. Peter finished his mouthful and took a sip of his juice before he spoke, just to keep Howard waiting those extra few seconds. A tactic of defiance he'd picked up from Tony. Except Peter was the Golden Child, and on occasion, Howard wouldn't even furrow a brow at it. 

"My attendance is still 100% for this term. I'm currently working on an A grade. I was assigned History homework today. If I get an A on this too, I'll be working at an A*" Peter replied evenly, before he resumed eating. Maria sipped her wine before she reached out, patting his shoulder in the way Peter imagined you might reward a dog. 

"Well done, darling. We're so proud of you, as always" she remarked. Howard's only response was to remind Peter that it ought to stay that way, that he was a Stark, after all, and dinner fell into its usual lull of silence. Dessert was gelato, icy on his tongue and so rich with flavour he was salivating. Howard left promptly when the plates had been cleared, though he stuck around long enough to obtain another double shot. Maria lingered, offering polite interest in his homework and Ned, before she retired to her sun room. 

Peter fled to his own room, locking the door just for good measure. When he slid into his desk chair he truly intended on beginning his homework. It was just...What if he loaded up the game, while he got started? That couldn't hurt, right? The music was soothing, after-all. It might help him focus. So he typed in the URL, which auto-filled for him as he typed. He logged in and was pleasantly surprised to find he had friend requests and chat mail, and before he knew it he was a gone man, all thoughts of homework abandoned. 

The community was surprisingly friendly towards new players, with several people approaching to make sure he was getting on okay, and that he had everything he needed to roam around and explore. ForestNymphette wasn't online, but he was content to chat to the others, even finding another fae character. Far more complex and fancy than his own, but NotQuiteLegolas was cheerful and happy to tag along with him as they explored. The game had four 'countries'. Though in-game they were noted as 'lands'. 

**》 NotQuiteLegolas: I've gotta log off for work now, dude, but hey. If you're online a while longer you should totally see if you can find TheIronMan. He's like a legend on this thing. You're on my friends list so I'll hit you up when I'm back!**

"TheIronMan?" Peter read aloud, head tilting. It was at that moment that he noticed the time and he cursed, throwing off his headphones and scrambling for his phone. His heart sank when he saw the two missed calls, and he threw his laptop shut, tapping frantically at the call button. It rang. And rang. And just when Peter's lip begun to wobble, the screen changed, and Tony's soft voice came through the speaker. 

"Puppy?" 

"Tony!" Peter gasped, practically slapping himself in the face with the phone as he brought it to his ear. He twisted away from his desk, flopping back onto his bed as he listened to the sound of rustling, the murmur of background voices before Tony spoke again. 

"Hey, Pete. I thought you were busy or something. How was school today?" Tony asked, and Peter practically melted into his pillow. He was not for the first time struck by how much he missed Tony, how far away he felt when their only option was to listen to each others' voices. He couldn't help but bask in it; the deep-soft sound of Tony's voice, his name in his mouth. He heaved a delighted sigh and hummed, bringing the covers up over his legs. 

"Mm, it was okay. I've got history homework to do, but I'm starting it tomorrow. I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was - Studying" Peter settled on, lip sucked into his mouth as he mulled over the lie. He wasn't sure why he was hiding FSLO from Tony, of all people. Tony only ever mocked him in jest, and never about anything he knew Peter was genuinely interested in. And yet...

"Still a little nerd, I see" Tony teases, and there's a _second_ chuckle from the back of the speaker. Peter's heart clenches. Tony isn't alone. "Sorry, Steve's here. We're watching New Amsterdam". And it was stupid that it made his heart clench, because Steve literally lived with Tony. The odds of him being around when they called were almost 10 to 10. He snuffled into his sleeve as he got comfortable, trying to focus on the fact he was talking to Tony, rather than the fact that Tony was far away and sharing a room with an attractive boy. 

"Oh, cool. What's that about?" Peter asked, interested genuinely cultivated, and Tony went on to describe the medical show, focused around the main Doctor and his exploits into trying to make his hospital a better place. Peter had Netflix loaded up before Tony was even finished, scouring the site for the show. When Tony's voice trails off, done explaining as much as he can without giving away any spoilers, its Peter's turn to ask; 

"How is college coming?" And Tony gives a blissful sigh, sheets rustling in the background. 

"Its pretty awesome, really. I mean, freshers was amazing. I don't think I've ever drunk so much. And I've met so many people, y'know? Not like we do with Stark Industries stuff, but just...People. Smart, interesting people. Its fairly cool. I've met all my lecturers and we're properly starting next week. I think I like it here, y'know?" Tony hummed, and Peter could feel himself torn. On one hand, Tony was happy and in his place. On the other...That place wasn't here, with Peter. And if Tony enjoyed the free life so much, he might very well not come back at all. And sure, Tony has to spread his wings at some point. But...Peter had rather imagined that Tony would wait until he could follow. 

"But...I miss home. A little. And I miss you, dorkface. I can't wait for you to visit so I can show you all the cool stuff up here. And Steve think you're pretty cool, which I bet will change when he meets you" Tony continued, and Peter gave the appropriate scoff, head shaking. He couldn't even be mad at the mention of Steve. It was unfair to automatically hate someone just because they were in the presence of the person you loved. That was cruel and unjustified, and it made Peter feel guilty for his prior reactions. "Rhodey is pretty awesome, too. He's got this Dad vibe but he's totally up for doing random shit. I still miss my experiment buddy, though" Tony added softly, and Peter hummed in response. Yeah. He missed that too. 

They spoke for a little while longer, less intimate than the chats before, but Peter supposed that Tony didn't want to appear _too_ soft in front of his new friends. He didn't mind; just hearing his voice and about his day was nice enough. Tony talked and talked until it was time for them to settle down for bed, and left him with a hushed "Love you, Pete" before hanging up. It made Peter warm all over, soaking in the words as he lay there, gazing up at his ceiling. Was Tony doing the same? Did Tony truly miss him as much as Peter did? 

He dreamt that night. 

_"I missed you" mumbled against his mouth, low and needy. Bourbon eyes near black with desire. Familiar hands skating the grooves of his stomach, the rise of his hips, teasing lower and lower until he was writhing, begging. "I think you should show me how much you missed me too" whispered in his ear, thick heaviness against his thigh, grinding slow and taunting._

He woke on a gasp, a half-formed name he swallowed lest it was heard. His chest heaved as he sucked in air and shifted, thighs and hip sticky and uncomfortable. It took him a brief moment to comprehend what had happened; that he'd had a wet dream, and came from it no less, about his brother. 

Peter groaned and ran a hand down his face. It would be a long day. 

In fact, it was a long week. Peter stuttered his way through every nightly call, cheeks blazing and cock throbbing as the faint recollection of Tony's sultry voice hit his ears. At the sleepy rasp of Tony's voice he couldn't help sliding his hand down his stomach, pressing the heel of his palm against his cock. He hadn't dared to do anything else, frozen in aroused fear as Tony had rambled on about science labs and Rhodey and the local pizza place and this tree that looked like a set of spread legs. 

Peter spent any time not consumed by Tony, school, his parents or Ned on FSLO, levelling up his character, customising him even further, exploring the lands that developed around him the further he got. He tried his best not to make any purchases in that first month, wanting to succeed on the back of his own hard work, rather than his parent's money. He only purchased one thing with real money, and that was a flowing robe red-blue robe that he'd spotted on the game's Marketplace and had _needed_. He met several new friends and even managed to find Nymph and Legolas again, the two of them taking turns to teach him stuff and take him places. 

The first month of Tony's absence passed quicker than Peter ever could have thought it would, and he awoke in the morning with a jolt, eyes wide and a grin fast taking over his cheeks. _Today was the day he could visit Tony_. Well, not exactly. He still had to wait another day, until it was Saturday, but today was the _actual_ day that the 'ban' was over. When he rolled over to check his phone, Tony had messaged him at exactly midnight. 

**[The King] Hey, baby. Happy ban-is-over day! Not long now and we can be together again. [00:00]**

Peter's heart clenched. God. That didn't sound like an older brother. That sounded like a lover away in the military or something. It made Peter's heart flip and his stomach squeeze in a funny way, re-reading the line over and over until Anita knocked politely on his door to inform him that breakfast was ready. He had to forgo a shower that morning, scarfing down his smoked beef and his french toast before scrambling into the car, greeting Happy cheerfully even if all he ever got in response was a grunt and a 'watch your shoes!'. 

He practically fell on top of Ned outside his locker, pink-cheeked and still grinning. Ned took one look at him and rolled his eyes, but held his hand up for a high-five, smiling back at his friend. "Its the day, right? Like... _The Day_ the day?" Ned asked as he stuffed his books into his bag, and Peter leaned against his locker with a dreamy sigh. 

"Yup! Ned, Its only one more day and I'll be on my way to see him! I can't wait. I wonder if he looks any different? D'you think he's changed his style? I've heard college makes people go through tonnes of changes. Ugh, I can't wait to see him, though. I miss him more than I missed my own bed when we went to Barcelona!"

Ned rolled his eyes for a second time, steering a swooning Peter towards their homeroom class. "You sound more like his boyfriend than his brother" Ned huffed, and missed the way that Peter's face twisted as they entered the classroom. He tried not to think too hard about it during homeroom, fingers sliding over the edges of his phone in his pocket as he thought about it. God, what would Ned think, if he knew? And that was to say nothing of his parents. Peter had learned from a young age to keep even his platonic affections for his brother to a minimum, hidden in the safety of their rooms and the long hours that Howard and Maria spent away. 

**[Me] I can't wait to spill all your secrets and tell all your embarrassing stories to your new friends >:D [10:16]**

**[The King] I've changed my mind. The ban lasts forever. Cancel the car. [10:20]**

Peter couldn't help but snicker, jerking guiltily when his tutor barked at him to put his phone away, ducking his head bashfully and muttering an apology as Ned eyed him in sympathy. Peter didn't get a chance to check his phone again until lunch, and he spent it alternating between texting Tony and staring at his phone with a wistful, dreamy expression. Ned tried to talk to him, and MJ sat at the edge of the table reading as per usual, but all Peter could think of with a fuzzy heart was the fact that him just a handful of hours, he'd be on his way to see Tony. In person. 

God. 

"Gross. You're looking at your phone the way you look at LEGO. Is it Tony? I bet it's Tony" Ned huffed into his sponge cake, and Peter looked up, guilt written all over his face as he shoved his phone into his pocket, lest Ned see any of the messages. It wasn't because they were incriminating or unsafe, but...He supposed he wanted to keep them to himself. His little secret. His privacy with _his_ brother. It sounded possessive, but he couldn't help it. For as long as Peter could remember he had thought of him and Tony as belonging together, even before his brotherly adoration grew into something bigger and bolder. 

Tony had had partners, sure. Carefully hidden away from Peter and never more than off-hand fucks or infrequent fuck buddies. Never closer than skin. But he'd never held them above Peter, and the twice that Peter had confessed to feeling lonely during the times Tony drank and fucked and snorted his way through the week, Tony had dropped it all and spend every night with him, reading him books and watching films and talking for hours, until they'd have to fake being sick the next day because they were so exhausted. 

"Just because you're a lonesome only child" Peter sniffed teasingly, and Ned threw a small stem of broccoli at him. 

"I grew up with you, nerd. You're basically like a brother. Except better, because I didn't have to grow up sharing everything and being outshined" Ned pointed out, and Peter had to concede that Ned had a point there. They'd met in kindergarten and had briefly been separated during elementary school after Ned's parents moved away for a job that fell through, but had met up again in 6th grade, and had been inseparable every since. Tony had often joked that Ned was like a second brother, and even Maria and Howard had once made remarks about their close friendship. 

Though, as always, Howard's had been a warning about not letting affection and friendships hold him back from opportunities. 

"We both would have been outshined by Tony, though, so" Peter pointed out, and this time it was Ned who gave that universal face of agreement, because whilst they both weren't idiots, and whilst Peter was on average a perfect A student, Tony was quite frankly ridiculous in his intelligence. He took after Howard, undoubtedly and in every way except for the cold=heartedness that had developed over the years. If not for the fact that Tony lived his life in the exact opposite way that Howard dictated he ought to, Tony would be the favourite child by far. Howard valued value over sentiment. 

Classes flew by for the rest of the day, a blur of genuinely trying hard to focus on his studies and not checking his phone, which blinked at him tantalisingly from the edge of his desk. He held out until the last bell rang, catching Ned rolling his eyes as he surged across his desk and snatched it up. 

**[The King] Get an early night tonight, Puppy. The sooner you get here, the longer we have together. [15:18]**

"If I didn't know better I'd say you had a crush on him" Ned joked as they raided their lockers, and one of Peter's books slipped from his hands and smacked him between the eyes, jarring him from his thoughts with a yelp. 

"What? Gross. No! Ew! I just miss him, is all. Dad's a dick and Mom's...Less of a dick. You can like someone without crushing on them!" Peter defended, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. It caused a raised eyebrow and a few looks from the people around them, but thankfully Ned dropped it after a pause and begun to talk about his plan for the weekend instead, which largely revolved around eating as much as he physically could and re-reading a load of his old Star Wars comics. Peter agreed it was a great plan, but secretly held it to his chest that it was nothing compared to his own. 

Peter did his best to eat quickly that night, half-heartedly answering all of his parent's questions on what he intended to do on his visit, promising to give Tony their (Maria's) best and accepting their wishes for a safe journey, since they would not be waking with him. He didn't lament that fact, practically downing the last of his juice and fleeing to his room, where he threw himself off his bed, laptop and FSLO thoroughly ignored as he hit the call button, biting at his lip nervously. 

It rang. And rang. 

And then finally;

"Hey there, Pup" in that soft, deep voice that sent Peter's spine almost arching, a grin overtaking his mouth uncontrollably. Tony looked a little sleepy, a little mussed up, but was smiling at him, eyes soft and sat at his desk, if the view behind him was any indication. He looked like he'd had a long day of classes, a smear of grease on his temple and a pen tucked behind one ear. Peter's heart immediately grew about ten sizes, and he breathed out a soft _hey_ in response, eyes greedily roaming the camera. 

"Shouldn't you be in your pyjamas and all snuggled up for bed?" Tony asked, even though there was still a good three or so hours before it would be close to the time Peter usually settled down to sleep (or hide on FSLO, as of late). Peter stuck his tongue out and shuffled on his bed, kicking at the covers that made his legs get too hot through his jeans. 

"Technically, I am un bed" he pointed out, and Tony rolled his eyes, mocking him in an unflatteringly high voice. 

"Brat" he huffed affectionately, and Peter's cock jumped against his leg, suddenly interested in the conversation. Peter did his best to keep his expression cool, but his mind ran a million miles an hour with the new data of how _brat_ sounded in Tony's voice. It almost made him flat-line for a brief moment, head spinning with ideas and fantasies, but he forced himself to huff in mock annoyance, and got comfortable against his pillow, immediately quizzing Tony on his day. 

The call went on into the night, until Tony's gaze flicked somewhere upwards and he gave a forlorn sigh, looking across at Peter. "It's getting late, little brother. Time for bed, you've got a good drive in the morning and I want you well rested for all the fun things we're gonna do together. Steve is due home soon, anyway. Gotta clear up my mess before he gets here". 

_Home_. 

Peter's heart sank a little, but he did his best to hide it, nodding slowly and wishing his brother well, disconnecting with their usual soft goodbyes. He lay there for a long while, trying and failing not to overanalyse that. Home. What did that mean? Was the Stark Mansion no longer Tony's home? Though Tony had been desperate to leave it since he was young. Did Steve think it was home, too?

Worse. Was it home for them, _together_? 

Peter scowled at his own childish behaviour and hauled himself up, going through his usual nightly routine with his best attempt at remaining chipper, banishing his jealously with the knowledge that in several short hours, he would be there with Tony, would have his attention for an entire day, far more than Peter had basked in for an entire month, despite their frequent long calls and the days spent texting and sending memes. He covered himself with his duvet, sinking under the comforter with a sigh and imagining what it would be like to be there, with Tony, away at college, climbing into the same bed together after a long day of classes. Fucking quietly so they didn't get heard by the dorm next door. 

Peter fell asleep before his cock or jealousy could wake up again, a half-smile on his mouth as he nuzzled into his pillow, dreams filled with leaping into Tony's arms, the taste of his tongue as they kissed for the first time (ever) in a month, whispered confessions of emotions and the jealous looks of all the people that had tried to claim him in their time apart, unknowing of the boy waiting for him back home. 

He could barely eat in the morning, changing his outfit three times and choking down a bagel under Anita's assistance. He used a little spray on his hair, balmed his lips and used enough aftershave that he was confident no amount of nervous sweating would make him smell bad. Anita smoothed at an unruly curl with a soft smile, handing him a little packed lunch for in case he got hungry on the way there or back home. 

"You look gorgeous, _querido_. He will be very pleased". 

And before Peter could question the choice of words, the glitter in her eyes, Happy was puffing through the front door, shaking his watch and demanding that they 'git' before the traffic choked them out on the highway. Peter scrambled into the car - A plain SUV at his request - With haste, practically vibrating in the passenger seat the entire way. It hadn't even occurred to him to check his phone until the first hour of the journey was almost done with, and he yanked it from his pocket with enough force that Happy side-eyed him. 

**[The King] It's the day! Can't wait. Not even eating breakfast with Steve so we can enjoy shitty eatery food together. [00:00]**

**[The King] You should be waking up by now. I demand to know what Anita packs you for the journey. I miss her scones. [06:45]**

**[The King] If you've slept in I will personally mail a shoe down to throw at you. Wake up! [07:21]**

**[The King] I take it all back. You'd make a horrible dog. You don't listen at all. [08:56]**

Heart squeezing, Peter sent a hurried text back, and the rest of the journey was spent texting back and forth, grinning at his phone stupidly at all the jokes and the affectionate messages that Tony sent in response, always in a timely manner. The four hour journey flew by, Peter managing to catch a snap of the 'Welcome to Massachusetts' sign as they passed it. Tony sent him a string of celebration themed emojis in response, and the journey to MIT took a dazzlingly short amount of time. The sight of the grounds left Peter breathless, and the sight of Tony stood there waiting rendered him wheezing. 

Happy barely had time to slow the car to a mostly-stop before Peter was falling from the vehicle, scrambling to right himself enough that he would move forwards instead of downwards, towards Tony. Tony's chuckle was real. Live. Music to Peter's ears as they moved towards each other, and then in what felt like a mere second, they were crashing into each other, tears stinging at Peter's eyes as Tony's arms wrapped tight around his waist, as the smell of his aftershave overwhelmed him, as Tony swept him up into the air and around in a circle like in the romance movies. 

"Missed you too, brother" Tony laughed into his ear, solid and real and Peter could feel the hot breath that accompanied the words on his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut as they clung to each other tightly, for long enough that Happy cleared his throat loudly from behind them. 

"I'll be back here at five. Don't be late, or I'm driving back without you" the man warned, accepting a wave from Tony as greeting and acknowledgement of his warning. Peter drew in a shuddering breath and forced himself to loosen his grip on Tony, stepping back to actually verbally greet his brother instead of just bodily assaulting him, but the words stuck in his throat as they moved apart, clawed back in reeling horror as Peter's gaze fell down, to the lopsided collar of Tony's jacket. 

His neck was littered with dark bruises and the indents of teeth. 

Marks he absolutely hadn't had during their call that night. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry that this is pretty shit and basically has no plot. I'm recovering from intense eye surgery and writing is a rather painful experience for me right now. 
> 
> The following chapter(s) will be much more plot relative and more focused on FSLO for those who were asking about the gaming aspect of the fic. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your support and patience, and I can only apologise again for quality.

Tony's gaze almost immediately followed where Peter was staring, frozen on the spot as he tried desperately to keep his expression schooled. His older brother gave a light cough and looked sheepish, one hand reaching up to run meekly through his hair. 

"Oh, sorry. I uh...I have showered. I'm clean. And I cleaned my room". 

Peter's heart felt like it had fallen straight to the floor. 

_My room._

It didn't take A 220 IQ to figure out what that meant. It wouldn't even take Tony's 270 to guess who was responsible for the state of Tony's neck. And whatever Peter couldn't see. 

"Gross" he forced himself to croak, in a way that made Tony chuckle. Peter felt a little sick though, heart hammering against his chest as they stood there, now with an arms length between them. 

This was somehow worse than all those other times growing up. All those nights being young and wondering what Tony was doing, talking lowly, groaning and whimpering. The older years of laying there grossed out at first, and then jealous, but this felt...

Well. Sort of like betrayal. 

This was supposed to be _their_ day. Tony was supposed to have spent the night like he had, eagerly awaiting Peter's arrival, the first moment in a month that they could be together again. 

And he hadn't. 

He's spent the night with Peter completely gone from his mind, railing someone (or getting railed) into the mattress. 

"Pup?" 

_Don't. Don't....Call me that. Please._

"Sorry. I got so lost in wanting to die then". He aimed for joking. However flat it fell, it still made Tony roll his eyes and laugh, reaching out to drag Peter under his arm cheerfully. 

"Don't be such a baby. If you weren't such a 'good child' you'd be sneaking partners into the house" Tony teased, drawing Peter along with him as they begun the walk across the grounds. 

The house. 

Not home. Just...A house. Peter gave a weak smile and a vague argument about being too busy for that kinda thing, and then got immediately distracted by the grandeur of the facility, the towering white pillars and roman-eqsue building. 

"Pretty neat looking, huh? Its not too shabby. Could do with some colour, but it's not hideous" Tony grinned at him, squeezing his shoulder. He smelled strongly of aftershave and just that base personal scent. Peter wanted to bury himself in it. 

Wanted to childishly refuse to be touched, knowing what Tony had been doing with those hands mere hours ago. But this was his first time around Tony and he was determined not to be selfish and so he nodded, eyes wide as he looked around. 

"So, darling. Where do you wanna go first, hm?". And good question. Peter decided on the reception and foyer and so that was where they headed, the long but peaceful walk across the grassy grounds slowly relaxing Peter, drawing his attention away from the niggling sensations low in his gut. 

The foyer was amazing. It was just a foyer, as expected, but it somehow felt better than any other. All polished wood and new marble, photo frames and a large desk and waiting chairs. Peter immediately left Tony's side to roam, fingertips grazing woodwork and very, very carefully brushing the edge of the frames. When Peter turned, Tony was leaning against a wall, watching him with his hands tucked into his pockets and a soft smile on his face. Peter flushed and tipped his head up. 

"What?"

"Nothing. You're just adorable. Dork" Tony grinned, and held out his arm. Peter attempted a scowl, but his heart felt fit to burst and he went to Tony's side, taking his arm like a damsel and allowing Tony to lead him around the main front block of the building, talking about its history and the various pieces of scripture and artwork on the walls. Peter was both listening intently to the information, and to the soft rasp of Tony's words, thrilled at just being in his presence. He'd missed that voice in person, close to his ear and tender. 

They walked through various hallways until Tony stopped, outside a classroom door that he peeked into before pushing open with a smile. "This is my main class. Biological Engineering. I kinda took this just to see what its like, but I actually really like it. I didn't realise just how much of an impact we have on medical fields, y'know Like something I make could be the key to saving millions of lives" Tony expressed, wonder and joy in his eyes and Peter melted, gazing adoringly at him for as long as he could get away with before looking inside the wide room,filled with various benches and mechanics. 

Tony was taking three classes in total, Biological Engineering part time, and Electrical Engineering and Computer Science and Mechanical Engineering as his main two studies. It was a heavy load, but from what Peter could tell Tony was flying through the curriculum and was excelling at his classes. Though Peter expected no less and didn't doubt the sincerity of it; Tony had always been amazing at school, only staying behind to remain with Peter when he could have easily been at MIT as young as fourteen or fifteen. Peter was sort of on par, but had opted to stay in high school for the experience, friendship and the time to decide where he wanted to go in the future. 

"Medical Engineering is the class that me and Stevie share" Tony hummed as they continued the tour, and Peter gave a bright smile despite the way he wanted to beg for it to be just them, today. No more mentions of Howard or Maria or 'Stevie'. Just them. The smile felt brittle on his face, but Tony either didn't notice or ignored it. Peter could only feel thankful, because he didn't want to be the reason this day was ruined, and he snuggled closer. 

The tour of the grounds went quickly, and before Peter knew it they were outside the dorms, grand, white buildings like modern apartments but still retaining that fanciful sort of air. Peter could imagine them as the dorms of some fancy boarding school movie, and he voiced his appreciation as Tony took a keycard on a lanyard from his pocket, swiping it through. The machine also contained a keypad for if you forgot your card, which Peter thought was smart and practical. 

"Wait 'til you see my room. It's awesome - Steve's an artist and put all this shit up on the walls, it's pretty good stuff" Tony remarked as they strolled, and Peter wanted to stamp his foot, but he also knew how ridiculous he was being. How petty it was to hate people he'd never met on the premise that they had something Peter wanted, but could never have. Not even if he wanted it. And Steve seemed like a nice guy, on the brief times he'd been around during their calls. Polite and friendly, at the least. 

So he sucked in a deep breath, and grew up. 

"That sounds really cool. You can't draw to save your life, it's a good thing one of the two of you has some artistic abilities" he mused, because it was true. Tony's drawing abilities lay solely in engineering plans and blueprints. Tony had once drawn Peter a dog, that had ended up being re-coloured and presented as a hippo because of its awkward form. "D'you think he'll ever be a big name for art?" Peter hummed as they entered an elevator. 

_You could kiss him now. Hit the emergency button; crowd him against the wall. If he was anyone else it would work. They do it in the movies. I bet he'd taste like Heaven. He grew stubble; that would mark your mouth up all red and swollen. He'd have to look Steve in the eyes with your taste still on his tongue._

"He's good enough for it, I think. He's kinda shy, though. You two would get on great; you're both big fucking nerds" Tony teased, knocking their elbows as the elevator went up, and up, and then stopped. Ton led him down the hallway and to a room numbered '22'. It reminded Peter of a song he'd once heard on the radio. He tried to recall it as he fought against the rapid beating of his heart, the flush on his cheeks. 

He hoped Steve wasn't around. And not least because of his childish resentment - But no doubt his flustered expression might be obvious to anyone but Tony, who was used to a little brother that stayed pink at the cheeks. 

The room was empty. And gorgeous. 

Steve must've changed his sheets at some point, because instead of muted silver they were now a soft rose gold, adored with a gentle shade of red on the edges. Artwork of various formats was tastefully scattered, paintings and drawings and what looked like charcoal prints of flowers and robotic pieces and faceless bodies. Steve was good. Seemed to have an affinity for messy half-sketches that drew Peter's attention. Tony's side of the room was indefinitely messier, but Peter knew his brother well enough to recognise it was an organised chaos in comparison to the almost military neat style of Steve's side. 

They seemed to share a laundry basket, and the door that led to the bathroom had been decorated with a sketch of a body in the shower, soft lines making water. 

"It's nothing over the top like back home, but". Peter's heart clenched and he looked up at Tony with one of the first genuine smiles he'd managed in a short while. _Home_. 

"It's nice. Cosy. I can't imagine sharing a room with someone, but you guys have made it work" he noted, genuinely impressed. He'd seen glimpses of the room on their calls, and a brief video tour at the start of the year, but it hadn't really shown him the true detail and nature of their living arrangement. So much so that it took him a moment to notice the change in Tony's sheets. Now the sheets were red and gold, eye-catching in a way Peter couldn't believe he'd missed. 

"Changed them last night" Tony remarked, almost cautiously, and Peter immediately knew why. 

_I cleaned my room._

"Tacky. Obnoxious. They suit you" he hummed, warmed by Tony's yelp of mock offence and the gentle shove he gave his brother, that almost instantly became Tony's hand catching on Peter's jacket, dragging him in for another crushing hug, nosing at his hair with a deep sigh. 

"I've missed you, kiddo. It hasn't been the same" Tony murmured quietly, and Peter gave a muffled sound of agreement into Tony's shoulder, clinging to him like they were Jack and Rose on that floating door. Tony squeezed him gently, fingers twisting in the back of his jacket and Peter breathed slowly, deeply, fighting back the tears that had threatened to spill since the moment they saw each other. Tony had changed so much, yet so little. He found himself sniffling as he nuzzled into Tony's shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed. 

"You can't tease me for being sad now" he mumbled, and Tony chuckled but nodded in agreement, holding onto him for a little while longer before pulling away slowly, and leading Peter over to the bed. His heart begun to thump against and he felt warm all over, sitting on the edge of the bed. The bed where hours before, Tony had...

"So. Tell me about home. Ned and MJ and Gwen. How's Anita? How are your classes?" Tony asked in quick succession, taking a seat on the edge of Steve's bed so they were opposite each other. Peter sucked in a deep breath and swiped at his eyes, forcing himself to focus on the flurry of questions that came. 

"Uh, right. Um...Home is...Home. Mom misses you. Dad...Hopes you're doing well". Tony scoffed at that, but let him continue, listening intently. "Anita is still good. It'll be a year next week, so she's officially now our longest running housemaid. She packed me some snacks for the journey, but we can share them, if you like. I'll probably eat them I get home anyway, no doubt Dad'll want all the dirty details of the trip and Mom will politely fake interest in the scenery".

"Sounds about right" Tony chuckled, and Peter gave him a gentle smile in response. 

"Ned is cool. He thinks you're gonna go off and become some world-famous billionaire designer and that the Stark name is gonna be even bigger than it is now. He thinks I'll take over Stark Industries and make it into a really cool environmentally friendly robotics company. That would be nice. MJ and Gwen are good, too. They'll have been together six months soon. Gwen gave me food after you left and told me not to be so sad. I think that was...Her way of being nice" he admitted. 

And so they talked, for a long time, until the door lock clicked outside and swung open to reveal quite frankly the second hottest man that Peter had ever seen. He knew it was Steve, because he'd seen Steve before. But the video quality apparently not ever done him justice, and Peter could suddenly both understand and sympathise with why Tony had taken a dip in that particular pool. At least a quarter of his resentment towards Steve died off immediately. 

"Oh! Shit, sorry. Am I interrupting? I can come back later. Hey, Peter". 

Huh. He had a nice voice, too. A little deep but smooth, friendly and rumbling in a way Peter could imagine himself listening to in audiobooks or documentaries. Steve was taller, taller than Tony by a good head or so. His shoulders were almost disproportionate to the tucked in waist that was hugged by a shirt that _had_ to be a size too small, and he had a sharp jaw that almost contradicted his friendly guy-next-door-but-also-secret-superhero style face. 

"Huh" Peter announced out loud, to the curious looks of both his companions. He scrambled to rectify it, shooting upright so fast he almost fell over, hand extended to greet Tony's...Friend? Roommate? Fuck buddy? 

Oh, god. _Boyfriend_? 

"Peter Stark. It's nice to meet you" he greeted, trying to sound more friendly than formal as Steve padded inside the room, one ridiculous hand enveloping Peter's with a gentle grip. And...Yeah. Peter almost couldn't hate either of them for forming a hot-guy sandwich. Steve was wonderful. It made Peter feel a little ridiculous for all his earlier petty thoughts as Steve dropped his hand with a dazzling grin. 

"Steve Rogers. You're the better brother, right?" And caught the pillow that Tony threw at him expertly, tossing it straight back as hard as it had flown at him. He smiled in a bare of perfect, white teeth, and Peter was immediately punched with the reminder that those perfect pearly whites were the indents on Tony's neck. 

"Obviously. Everyone knows the older brother is the prototype" Peter sniffed, and Steve barked a laugh that vibrated all the way down Peter's spine, patting his shoulder gently. 

"You're something alright, I can see why Tony raves about you" Steve hummed warmly, and moved aside to toe off his shoes and hang his jacket. He sat besides Tony, and before Peter knew it they were two hours deep into embarrassing stories and general chat. 

And Steve...Steve was a _delight_. Past his own guilty love, Peter knew Steve was good for Tony. Could keep up with him as well as steady and ground him. And he could only imagine what they looked like together, naked and moving as one. 

Hurt though it did to admit...They were good together. For each other. 

"Hey, why don't we go down to the diner? I'm pretty hungry and Peter _has_ to try one of their milkshakes before he goes" Tony grinned, eyes alight and already rising to stand. Steve rolled his eyes but followed, offering Peter a hand up. 

"Don't be surprised if he comes home for Christmas a few hundreds pounds heavier. I've never seen someone eat so many burgers in a week" Steve chuckled, and Peter huffed. 

"Tell me about it. He used to miss family meals all the time because he'd be at a Steak N' Shake or Burger King drive-thru" Peter hummed, unable to resist a smile as Tony flipped them both off whilst adjusting a shoelace. 

"I'll outlive both of you" Tony warned, holding open the door. 

On the walk to the diner Tonys phone rang, and he motioned them both to continue as he dropped back a little to take the call. Peter felt a little awkward, but Steve cast him a friendly sideways smile. 

"Tony mentioned you're thinking of coming to MIT when you graduate?" He asked, and Peter wondered just how much Tony spoke about him, or just how many calls Steve had quietly been in the background of. 

"I'm thinking about it. I mean, it's a very good school. And mechanic type stuff basically runs in the Stark bloodline". 

And someone had to take on Stark Industries, if not Tony. But he left that unsaid. 

"I can't imagine living in a family of brainiacs. Arguments must be a nightmare, huh? But I suppose on the plus hand if anything breaks, You've got it covered between you" Steve grinned, and then Tony was bouncing to their sides again, muscling his way between them to throw an arm over Peter. 

"Rhodey can't make it, but he says hi and to try the bubblegum milkshake" Tony hummed against Peter's temple, nudging at him briefly. Peter leaned into the touch, almost forgetting Steve's presence as they walked. The diner wasn't far from the campus, and was a quaint, cosy little 60's style burger joint. Tony steered them towards a booth that was obviously his favoured spot, and needlessly offered Peter his arm to help him sit down. Peter took it regardless, sinking into the plush padding with a soft sigh. He could almost imagine being back in the 60's here, with the weird hairstyles and the thick milkshakes and the rows of vintage cars. Or...They'd be 'current' cars, back then. 

Steve and Tony were chatting idly about a past visit as they settled into their seats, Tony at Peter's side and Steve sat opposite them, sort of facing the middle of them both so he wasn't staring directly at either of them. Peter's thigh was pressed tight against Tony's despite the entire booth of space, and the heat radiated from there, soaking through his body and warming him from the inside out. Tony didn't _have_ to sit that close, but he'd chosen to, and Peter felt like his heart might actually explode. 

"So. Besides a bubblegum milkshake, any idea what you want, Pup? My treat" Tony murmured into his ear when the conversation had lulled between him and Steve. Peter flushed at the nickname, spoken so brazenly, but Steve didn't react and the diner continued to bustle with life around them, and he scoured the menu once more. Tony's treat. 

"Uh...I think I like the look of the cheese and bacon burger? With the fries. Is that okay?" He asked after a pause, tapping the menu to show his choice, and Tony gave an approving sound, throwing an arm over his shoulders and squeezing gently. 

"Excellent choice, Puppy" Tony praised, and Peter felt red from his fingertips to his hairline. When he glanced up, Steve was watching them, but he looked amused more than accusatory, which he would no doubt be if he knew the exact reaction that the nickname drew from Peter. The way he had to shuffle in his seat to gain a little wiggle room around his cock, which had been in a constant state of half-hard since he'd first arrived here. 

And then Peter turned his head, saw a glimpse of dark, dark purple at Tony's neck, and a metaphorical bucket of ice-water was dumped over his head. Right. Of course Steve wouldn't be accusatory. Because Steve was actually fucking Tony, and Peter was just the doting little brother who wanted to grow up just like Tony. Peter heaved a sigh and hung his head into his menu as Tony ordered for them, fingers massaging Peter's shoulder then sliding down as he spoke, to his arm, squeezing gently. 

The idle small talk between ordering and their food arriving was hard to focus on. Their drinks came first and once Tony had sipped his rootbeer float, his hand fell to Peter's thigh, gentle and light but maddeningly distracting as they spoke. The pressure of his thumb on the crease of his thigh, the odd flex of his fingers that had Peter sitting bolt upright as they waited, chewing on his tongue so he didn't make any noises or draw attention in a manner that meant Tony would _stop_. 

So, of course, their food had to arrive at an impeccable time, which drew Tony's hands away and eagerly into his fry basket with a noise of pleasure. Steve eyed him with fond amusement and picked up his fork, using that instead of his fingers. He held it delicately, almost like a paintbrush, which Peter found a little endearing as he picked up his own fork. Tony scarfed a good few fries before turning to Peter, offering him a lopsided grin. "Good?" His brother asked after swallowing, and Peter nodded enthusiastically. They were good fries; crispy and golden and tasty. 

They ate in relative silence; which was to say that Steve and Peter ate in relative silence and Tony talked the entire time about his robotics project and how much he missed the ice cream shack back home and about how if bacon was gonna be his end, he would die happily. They nodded and hummed along at the appropriate intervals, exchanging glances here and there in mutual agreement to just roll with it. And...By the end of lunch, despite the way his heart still ached deep within his chest, Peter found he couldn't bring himself to hate Steve anymore, or the idea of him and Tony together. 

After-all, he should want what's best for Tony, right? And it was never going to be him, anyway. 

"You look sad, Pup. Still hungry?" Tony's voice broke through his thoughts, and Peter realised he'd been staring forlornly at his empty food tray for the past five minutes. He forced himself to look up and shake his head with a smile. 

"Just thinking of how much it's gonna suck. Going home to more smoked fish or salad". He was aware it was a ridiculous complaint, but Tony understood it well. Pleasure did not exist in the Stark household, in any form. Not even food. 

"Steve lives for healthy eating. He'd probably keel over for one of Joffrey's salads" Tony snickered, and Peter forced his millionth smile of the day. 

Time seemed to move so fast. They left the diner not long after Peter slurped up his second shake, and found themselves alone in the dorm, Steve retreating to meet another friend and to give them time alone. 

Tony lay himself on his bed and shuffled over, patting the space between his body and the edge. "Don't tell anyone I'm a cuddler" Tony warned as Peter kicked off his shoes. 

Heart thudding and voice stolen, Peter crawled atop the covers, desperately fighting the flashes of imagery that assaulted him as he tucked himself under Tony's arm, safe and small. Tony huddled him closer and hummed lowly.

"I do miss you, y'know. I know that I...I know I'm running away. I _want_ to run away. But not from you. I've always wanted to leave, but never leave you behind, Peter. I want you to know that" Tony spoke quietly, softly. 

"I'm gonna finish college. Get a nice place with two big, awesome bedrooms right next to each other. And I'm gonna take you away from them. I promise". 

Tony sealed it with a kiss to his temple, heavy and weighted, held his pinky out and smiled like sunshine when Peter linked it with his own, squeezing gently. 

They lay there for the remaining hours, alternating between calm silence and slow talk, soothing the ache in Peter's chest until the need for Tony was just a sad little thing, curled up small in his chest. 

His phone beeped. 

"Ruh-oh. Back to the villains lair you go" Tony sighed into his jaw, head turned where they were practically snuggling. Peter fought back a sniffle and rolled away, sombre and sad as they out on their shoes and jackets. 

"You'll have to meet Rhodey next time you come up. He's like a Grandpa, but a cool one. Y'know, the one that'll tell you off for swearing but shows you how to make a bomb out of pencils and gum" Tony grinned, arm tight around Peter's waist as they walked. 

"I...Don't think that's scientifically possible" Peter replied warily, because if Tony even thought there was a _modicum_ of a chance, he'd try it. Tony had blown up the school's science block on more than one occasion in his younger years. 

Happy was waiting for them outside the car when they arrived, and the surly man offered Tony a small but heartfelt smile as they approached. "You got two minutes to say goodbye enough that he doesn't snot up the car on the way home. I just had it cleaned". 

Tony threw his head back on a laugh, and turned to Peter, enveloping him in another hug. "Hear that, Pup? No howling out of the window on the way home" Tony teased, but he looked a little glassy eyed himself. 

It was enough for Peter to sniffle. 

"Oh, hey. No crying. I don't - I can't fix crying. Babies cry and nobody understand babies. Come on. Smile. This whole emotions thing is not my fortê" Tony coaxed, thumbing at his cheeks. Peter gave a watery chuckle, hanging his head. 

"Okay. Come on. Happy is glaring. I think his eye might actually be twitching. You better get in the car before he sticks you in the trunk" Tony breathed, and Peter flung himself forwards, crushing into Tony's chest, arms tight around him. One last hug. 

"Oh, Pup" Tony huffed, one hand burying in his hair. "Okay. Uh...Name a number. A big one". 

Peter pulled back and blinked up at Tony through wet lashes, confused as he clung to his brother. Tony rolled his eyes and chuckled. 

"Humour me, kid. Come on. A big number". 

"Um...3000?" Peter mumbled, jumping at the blade of the horn as Happy's patience grew thin. Tony grasped his arm and begun to walk him to the car, nudging him into the passenger seat with a brave smile. 

"3000. Good. That's a big one. That's how much I love you, okay? I love you 3000" Tony grinned, dazzling and brilliant as he buckled Peter in and kissed his temple, before shutting the door. 

Peter scrambled at the window button as Tony moved safely to the sidewalk, waving as Happy begun to pull away. Peter finally got the window open, twisting around to watch as Tony stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other waving him off. 

"Roll the window up before bugs get in. I just had the car cleaned" Happy huffed, but his gaze was sympathetic as he hit the window button, the car rolling around the corner and stealing Tony from sight. 

No sooner had they hit the highway, Peter's phone vibrated against his thigh. 

**[The King] Remember. I love you 3000, Puppy. [17:14]**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking a short break from the Starker fandom, but this chapter was already finalised before I made that decision. To avoid the risk of losing it, I'm publishing it. I've made an adjustment to the text format so its hopefully easier for you guys to read, if you're still following this. I've highlighted the changes below.  
> I cannot express how thankful I am for those who have supported this work so far, and I can only apologise over the complaints about the quality of my work.  
>  **》Text** means chat within FSLO. These will be centered.  
>  **[Name] Text [Time]** means texts from their phones. These will be right-origin.

**》NotQuiteLegolas: Dude, you totally missed TheIronMan the other day! He's got this new Divine tier armour and he paid for a custom colour pack. He looks awesome! Not very chatty, though.**

**》SciencePup2001: I was totally engrossed in this new assignment. It's for chem, and it's really cool. What colour pack did he use?**

**》NotQuiteLegolas: It's red and gold. I'm pretty sure he hacked the custom suite because it's so intricate and the helmet is a completely different shape.**

Peter frowned. Was that even possible? To hack the game? It was so complex and professionally run...But then his mind drifted to Tony, to his skills and his knowledge, and he supposed that anything could be hacked, as long as it was online. Especially when he thought about things like the Pentagon and the FBI. They could get into quite literally anything with the right software, and he gave a soft hum, sipping his Cola through the straw and swinging his legs before he typed out a reply. 

**》SciencePup2001: Take a screenshot for me next time. I never seem to be online when he is :((**

NotQuiteLegolas had eventually become 'Clint', a twenty-five year old in DC who actually enjoyed archery in real life, just like his character. Peter doubted that was his real name, but he was nice enough to talk to, friendly and cheerful and always up for joking. The duo had become sort of a pair within the game, always finding each other and spending hours completing quests and mini-games. Clint was always up at random hours, but stayed whenever Peter was around, guiding him through things and teaching him shortcuts. Like how / and R made for a quick reload on bows and crossbows. 

**》NotQuiteLegolas: Totally, dude. Hey, there's a hoard of drowners down by the Seelie Lake, if you wanna get some level points?**

And so that was how Peter spent his night, fingers flying over his keyboard and his touch pad as they fought side by side. Clint let him take most of the shots, so that he would received the points from their kill in order to level up. Peter had stuck true to his word when he'd first joined and had used his money little for the game and its offerings. The only thing he'd indulged in was a colour pack, red and a deep, rich blue. He'd gone one step further and the edges of his trailing robe and over-coat were laced with cobwebs, a pattern that also traced up his calves and thighs and sleeves. 

Exhaustion pulled at him after a while, the clock on his laptop ticking over steadily, and he logged off with a cheerful farewell, dragging himself from his bed to pee and go through his skincare routine before he sank into his covers, exhausted. He'd changed them not so long ago, bitter and betrayed by Tony's own change. He felt guilty and childish for it now, but the mix of black and grey was safe and comfortable; and he would not admit defeat by changing his own sheets back. 

Their calls were less now, in the weeks that had passed since the first visit. Tony's lessons were now in full swing and so was his social life - Often sending Peter photos from his nights out. It was easy, in the lonesome safety of his own room, for Peter to pretend that it was him Tony had slung an arm around, drunk and happy, and not Steve. Not Steve and his gentle nature and his book-worthy eyes. 

Peter had accepted it, yes. Had come to terms with the fact that Tony had now well and truly flown the nest. But that didn't make it easier. It didn't chain down the beast that whimpered pitifully within him each time. But that was Peter's burden - His load to bear as a man suffering from a love that had no right to exist. He would carry it quietly, as he always had. 

Peter's life had somewhat moved on, too. He was suddenly no longer in the shadow of his brother but a person in his own right. No longer 'Tony Stark's little brother' or 'the younger Stark' but merely...Peter Stark. A person of his own existence. He was still rather neutral, sticking to his own small group of close friends, but now he was...Something more than he had been, he supposed. 

Howard routinely asked about Tony once a week, and occasionally his Mother would pester him to assist her in calling him, but Peter's life was suddenly no longer revolving around Tony in an endless loop, but beginning it's own system of friends, hobbies, routines and experiences. He didn't hate it, in all honesty. 

He still longed for his brother. Not just in love; but as family. Missed his companionship and easy understanding. His support. Still yearned for his easy presence at the dinner table. But losing Tony had done something to the child within Peter; and now he merely felt like he was growing out of a life stage, entering the next. 

Sort of.

It didn't stop the dreams. The thoughts. The dirty little jealousy each time Steve joined their calls or each time Tony crowed about being _free_.

But it became... _Easier_. 

More so when the game was there to distract him in all the nights Tony didn't have time to cater to his pining. Peter had learned that the game had such a vibrant variety of things to offer, from complex and customisation storylines to live events and friendships. Characters could not only interact as real people, but as actual characters, too. Peter found any free time that wasn't spent with Ned was being spent on the game, glued to his screen with his desk slowly evolving from a studying space to a gaming space. He even went and bought a new mouse, cup holders for his drinks and new headphones that had a little microphone built in, so he wasn't relying on the one built into his laptop. 

He didn't tell anyone else. Not really. He spoke to Ned and MJ about it, and he talked endlessly to Clint, but...His parents and Tony didn't know. His parents because they weren't interested and would scold him for wasting his time with such things. Howard especially; though he would be far less kind. If Peter was in any luck, he'd do that thing where he got so angry he went red, and the furrows between his brows looked like trenches. 

Tony because....

Peter didn't have a solid answer for Tony. Some part of him found it relieving - To have something that was just his. A life (of sorts) that didn't involve Tony in any way. A comfort blanket. An escape. Part of it was also because he feared Tony might look at him and still think he was childish. Even though Tony himself was no stranger to gaming. Peter remembered a solid month when Tony had first purchased an XBOX, and had barely left his room. But whenever Peter did anything, Tony would coo at him and praise him like a dog learning a new trick, or a parent indulging their child. 

Peter didn't want to be a child or a dog in Tony's eyes. 

Well. Maybe a dog. Of the kink kind. 

But not a child. Not a cute little brother to be coddled. 

No. Peter wanted to be grown up. Grown up like Steve. Like all the girls Tony had snuck in and out. He wanted to be seen as an equal to Tony - An opportunity, even if it was one his brother would never consider nor take. Perhaps if Peter grew up enough, Tony would want to be around more. Might even call more. Invite Peter up more frequently. Maybe might even - 

No. 

Peter was moving on. New chapter. New life without clamouring over his brother like some love-sick puppy who'd been left in his cage all day. Peter rolled over, flipped his pillow to the cool side, and let himself sink into the blissful reprieve of sleep. It was blessedly empty of any meaningful or targeted dreams, nothing but those vague and mundane stories that the brain dreamed up in order to fill blank space. He awoke refreshed and ready for a day at school, halfway through getting dressed before he remembered it was in fact a Saturday. 

And he was at home because Tony was accompanying Steve to an art exhibition. 

Peter breathed out a sigh, and shrugged off his shirt. Right. Ned was on a family trip across the city today, so it was just him and himself. Unless....Peter let his gaze drift across to the laptop. He had the full day. A few hours gaming wouldn't kill him, but he also needed to be responsible. So he made his bed and put his laundry in the basket and made his way downstairs, beaming at Anita when she snagged his arm and ushered him into a seat at the table. 

"Good morning, _querido_. How did you sleep?" She asked him as she poured a glass of pineapple juice, her smile warm and the crinkles at her eyes deep. Anita had been there longer than any other staff. Peter thought of her sort of like his Grandmother, in lieu of the fact he'd never had one. She'd made him oatmeal, with chocolate and strawberries, raspberries and a little pot of yogurt on the side. It was light and refreshing, cool and little bursts of flavour on his tongue. He shovelled three spoonfuls into his mouth before he paused to answer her question. 

"Really good, actually. I didn't have that weird dream about the fish again. I think I'm gonna go for a jog and then get on with some studying" he hummed, only a half-lie. He was studying the game, technically, and she smiled at him again, though there was a small amount of sorrow in her eyes as she stroked his hair. 

"Oh, Peter. Study, study, study. You're too like your family! Go out, live, fall in love a little. Maybe even get some sun!" She pinched his creamy cheeks and left him to his breakfast, tutting and muttering in Spanish she knew he could understand as she went back to the kitchen. Peter shook his head with a broad smile and continued to vacuum up his breakfast, keen on getting some fresh air and exercise before he sat down for a considerable amount of time. 

He dressed slowly and spent an hour texting Ned in order to let his food digest before he began to stretch, comfortable in the sleek running pants and the loose shirt he had chosen as an outfit. His earphones completed the ensemble, and he waved goodbye to Anita as he bounced down the steps and out into the street. He liked exercise, contrary to the popular dislike of it. Exercise kept him in good shape and helped to keep him energised, helped him to feel better. Sure, it sucked sometimes. When he was 100 push-ups in and his arms burned and he wanted to motorboat a pizza. 

But in general...

His head began to clear as the music drowned out his surroundings and his body was overcome with the thumping vibrations of his jogging. He went his usual route, running alongside the mainstreet and cutting through the park. The sight of the trees and the grass made him think of the grounds at MIT, of lazy afternoons lounging on the soft foliage, side by side with Tony and studying hard. Try as he might...That soft image didn't fade. Not even when the view of the park did and his route curved back towards home. Half of the time he wasn't sure if his fantasies about Tony were romantic or simply domestic. A product of the serenity and support Tony had carefully nurtured him with.

By the time he reached home he was panting, sweat slick down his spine and he slowed to a halt, lowering the volume on his music before he paced the mansion and its grounds in a slow cool-down. When his legs no longer trembled or burned he shook them off and made his way towards the front of the house, head ducking when his phone vibrated against his arm. 

**[The King] Steve waxes on about art worse than any highschool tutor. There's a piece here that looks like someone spewed, and he's talking about 'emotional expression'. Thank God I was born with an affinity for mechanics. [10:41]**

Peter stopped walking, staring at the text while his stomach did something athletic and flexible within him. It was nothing but chatter, typical Tony talking even when he couldn't open his mouth. Knew that nothing was meant by it except to give Peter a little giggle and to vent his frustrations in the only way he could. But it made something sour crawl up Peter's throat, his brow furrowing as he stared at it. He just...Couldn't bring himself to respond with enthusiasm. Tony was on a date, more or less, even if he didn't say so. And Peter _wanted_ to be happy for him. Was. He just...

Didn't have the energy or the motivation to deal with having his heart crushed again today. So he swiped the notification off his phone and jogged inside the empty house, heading straight for a shower. The spray was warm and pounded his muscles when he stepped inside, breathing out a moan of relief and pleasure. He took his time rinsing his body, the soap a foamy lather that slid over his skin like silk as he touched himself, slid his palms down his body, mapped out every swell and dip and curve. Did Tony do this to Steve? Had they learned each other, every inch, every blemish? 

Peter thought about it as he sat on the shower seat, skating his fingertips along his thighs. Recalled the way Tony's stubble blazed a red path along his skin during their tickle fights, or the times they'd fallen asleep together. Every hug and tender kiss to his temple or cheek. He knew the callouses on Tony's hands. Knew every single scar, though he supposed Tony might have new ones, now. Knew the little half-moon one his ankle. The thin line from a solder iron on his hip. Knew the plushness of Tony's lips and the softness of the skin that stretched over taut muscle on his stomach. 

Did Steve know? 

Peter scoffed and let his thighs close, rising to his feet and ducking his head under the spray. Steve knew. Steve knew _better_ than Peter. 

FSLO's music was soothing when he flipped open his laptop, left on the screen from the previous night, and Peter let the game load his account as he scrubbed the towel through his hair then across his hips, breathing in the scent of washing powder and his shampoo. He'd changed that, too. No longer the same scent as Tony's, but light and fruity, vibrant in summer-berry type scent. Peter gave a low huff and squirmed into a pair of sweatpants as he checked the game's welcome page. He had two friend requests, and message from Nymph and a gift from Clint, who must've logged back on at some point. 

One loose shirt and a can of Cola later, Peter had his headphones on and was guiding his character through a forest, stopping here and there to forage for berries and vegetation he could use as food and for spells. The forest was one of the most beautiful scenes in the game - Bio-luminescent during the night, and filled with life. From flora to curious little creatures, it was perhaps Peter's favourite place to be. He'd even made a little hidey-den of sorts in the space between some large rocks he'd found, though it was also frequented by other players. Once it had even been raided by some asshole, but several anonymous players had come together in the time he'd been logged off to re-build it.

The den was still there when he found it this time, though several items had changed. The food he'd left was gone, but had been replaced by skins of water, and one of his books had been switched out, but it only made him smile. People had taken, yes, but they hadn't been selfish. They'd taken but they'd also given, a trade rather than stealing. How wholesome. With a few key presses Peter neatened up the space, moving everything so it was organised and replenished. He liked to play the game as if he were actually living it - Taking care of his character and performing tasks like cleaning up and repairing anything damaged. 

When he was satisfied with that, Peter directed his character back through the forest, admiring the scenery and completely oblivious to the gamertag in the distance until a black-cloaked figure stepped onto his path. Blinking in surprise, Peter waited. Several seconds passed, and nothing happened. He moved his mouse to hover over the character, looking at the options available. 

**> Friendly **   
**> Aggressive **   
**> Confused **

He clicked on 'friendly' and watched his character wave, mouth moving in soundless conversation. The icon for an impassive reaction popped up above the strangers head, and the character took several steps closer. 

Someone else stepped up from the side. 

Then another. 

Peter's heart sank. He was surrounded, and this was an ambush. 

**》 SciencePup2001: If you guys need something, maybe i can help. But please don't attack me.**

None of the other characters responded, weapons wielded as they advanced. Peter zoomed out a little, eyeing them all carefully. He could probably take out two, maybe three of the five. But it would be difficult, especially if he needed to use a spell. 

The one on his left leapt forwards just as he managed to draw his staff, and Peter's hand stuttered across the keyboard, parrying in just enough time. But it was no use, one of the others cast an Ardu spell and a hit from a sword managed to chunk off 15HP. 

Peter sucked in a breath, heart hammering as his fingers flew across the keyboard, hitting as many offensive combinations as he could recall. 

_**-18HP** _

_**-21HP** _

_**-5HP** _

Peter could see defeat on the near horizon. A Marxi spell took out one opponent and did some hefty damage to another, but Peter was going to sent straight back to the loading page within a few moments. 

The distant sound of hooves clopping filled his ears, and Peter groaned. Defeat was coming even quicker. Except when the horse entered his view, ridden by a large knight in gleaming red and gold armour, it missed him entirely, brutally mowing down two of his attackers. Peter was so surprised his hands faltered over the keyboard, and the remaining attackers got another bout of damage in. Red and gold. It could be...But, no. Lots of players purchased custom colour packs, and Peter had seen multiple combinations, including red and gold before. 

It was not, in fact, a random act. The horse swung a tight circle in the corner of Peter's screen and came back for more, the impressive black beast mashing another assailant and rearing dramatically before its rider leapt to the ground, and in clear view, Peter could see the gamertag. 

_TheIronMan._

Peter's heart thundered as his fingers flew over the keys, desperately trying to focus on his own survival even though his gaze kept drifting, tracking the mysterious, legendary man as he took out the assailant he'd just mowed like a lawn with a few effortless, expert attack combinations. Peter's health was too low for him to try and attack the remaining opponent, so he focused on ducking and dodging, desperately trying to get a moments pause to scramble a health potion. Watched as TheIronMan sent a ball of flames that missed him entirely and engulfed his attacker, enough that Peter managed to cast a cloaking spell before loading his inventory menu. 

**》SciencePup2001: Thank you. You really saved my ass.**

**》TheIronMan: I'm dedicated to the preservation of good ass. Don't worry about it.**

Peter couldn't help a snicker, shaking his head as he eyed the screen in bemusement. It reminded him of Tony, something so bold and confident and flirtatious. His fingers hesitated over the keyboard, before he typed. 

**》SciencePup2001: Still. I mean, I've got some stuff in my inventory. And gold. Or you can have your pick of the loot?**

**》TheIronMan: I doubt there's anything they have that I don't.**

**》SciencePup2001: Bold. But a guy that looks like a Ferrari is like to make statements as such.**

**》TheIronMan: I'll have you know I'm the Lamborghini of this world. Ferrari's are so...Faux-common.**

Its delightful. Refreshing, even. Kind of like talking to Tony but without actually talking to him. And, yeah. Its kind of a dick move to enjoy someone's company based on the fact they remind you of your crush, but. 

TheIronMan doesn't seem to mind. 

He only had a potion to restore 30HP, which didn't move him entirely out of the red but would hopefully be enough to last him until he could gather ingredients or reach a store. Sans additional attacks, obviously. When he closed the inventory menu he found that TheIronMan was still there, stood a few paces from him. Peter would've expected him to be looting through the bodies, but the person behind the keyboard was simply....Stagnant. Peter waited for several more moments, before he thumbed open the interactive chatbox. 

**》 SciencePup2001: Thanks for saving my ass, dude. It would've really sucked having to respawn.**

**》 TheIronMan: No sense in letting a hard-worked upon ass go to waste. You're welcome.**

Peter snickered. Oh, boy. It sounded infuriatingly like something Tony would say, and he let his fingertips tap across his keyboard. 

**》 SciencePup2001: I suppose I can't argue against that. But, hey. Go ahead and take the first loot.**

**》 TheIronMan: I highly doubt they have anything I don't.**

**》 SciencePup2001: Must be nice to be that affluent. And that cocky.**

**》 TheIronMan: Oh, sweetheart. I've got plenty of cock.**

Peter rolled his eyes. It should've made him think that the person was an asshole. But...It didn't. Well. It _kinda_ did, but in a way that almost came off as endearing. Like Tony. Peter gave a soft huff and let his fingers hover over the keys, trying to think of a reply, when a soft fizzle of green sparked between them, and his health jumped up to 100/100. Peter blinked, then gave a small smile. How...Sweet. Not only had he saved him, but he'd also used an expensive potion to restore Peter's ability to safely play. 

**》 SciencePup2001: Aren't you just a knight in hot-rod armour?**

**》 TheIronMan: Games like this should be played for fun. Not used by assholes to target people and cheat. Their IPs have been blocked.**

**》 SciencePup2001: Are you an Admin?**

**》 TheIronMan: Nope. Just skilled with my fingers and an avid breaker of rules. Try not to get ambushed again.**

Peter snorted, watching as the character turned away and back to his awaiting mount, leaping astride the stallion and wheeling it, the computer-generated beast galloping off screen. He stayed there for a moment, before tapping the keys thoughtfully, raiding the corpses of the players. They weren't going to be coming back, by the sounds of it, so he didn't feel guilty for stuffing his inventory and his purse full of their loot. 

He sent a quick message to Clint about the coincidental meeting, head shaking as he logged off the game and leaned back in his chair, stretching out slowly with a deep sigh. Time for a break, he supposed. To do something productive. He checked his phone first, and blinked in surprise when he saw a message from Tony. He'd more or less forgotten about his earlier one, and he was hit with a pang of guilt. 

**[The King] How's your day, Pup? They had a painting here of a spider. I bought it for you. Its only tiny. I remember you screaming blue murder about the one in the library when Dad found it. [14:20]**

Peter stared at it, throat feeling a little tight, before he hesitantly thumbed across the keypad, typing and retyping until eventually he just let out a breath and tapped the send button, reaching for his drink with a small smile. At least Tony had still been thinking of him, right? That was something. A small, precious something he could hold tight to his heart forever. A gallery of his own memories. 

**[Me] Maybe you can visit next weekend? And bring it with you. You can help me hang it up somewhere. [15:23]**

Tony hadn't come home since he'd left. Had done little more than the occasional phone-call to the parents, though most of those had just been to Maria. Howard only cared to step in once a month, to demand the status of Tony's progress and grades and why he wasn't a year ahead on his work already. Tony had never even mentioned coming home, and each time they talked about meeting up, it was always back at the University, always around Tony's friends and in Tony's dorm. Peter didn't mind. Not... _Much_. But it would be nice to have that sense of Tony in his space again, to spend time with him without Steve and without the crippling reminder that Tony's world was gravitating further and further away from Peter's. 

**[The King] Maybe. I'll think about it, Peter. Guess I can't pretend home doesn't exist forever, right? [15:25]**

Peter frowned, then scowled, then softened. _Home_. He supposed he could understand why Tony preferred not to come back, but it still gave him some hope that Tony had at least vowed to consider it, this time. Was willing to at least think about coming back to a place he hated so that he could see Peter. It left the boy smiling as he swiped off Tony's messages and onto Ned's, asking about his day before he roamed downstairs on the prowl for snacks. He ought not to, supper wouldn't be long, but Anita smiled at him knowingly none the less when he nosed into the kitchen, and motioned for him to sit at the island. 

"I am glad to see you taking a break" she noted, pulling out several pieces of fruit, some squares of white chocolate and a granola bar. She knew exactly why he'd come snooping, and he watched her as she used a little metal spoon-like utensil over an open flame to melt the chocolate and drizzle it over the cut up pieces of fruit. "You and Anthony. Always with noses in books". She said it fondly, and Peter gave a small smile and a hum. He and Tony always used to study together, side-by-side and invested in their own work. 

"I like working and studying and learning" Peter replied simply, beaming when she set the plate of food before him. He ate quickly and in relative silence, watching Anita peeling vegetables and seasoning meat to marinate. "What are we having tonight?" He asked curiously, watching her rub powdered spices onto a dark, thick leg of meat. 

"Lamb soup" Anita responded, then made a gentle motion with her hand. "Come. You can cut the vegetables". 

It felt homely, standing at her side and talking about his plans for the coming week as he helped her to cook. He had never done this with their mother, only ever with the staff, as all his typical 'family experiences' had been. 

"Go now. Wash up" she shooed him away gently when he was done, and he stole an apple on his way out with a cheeky grin, bounding up the stairs and back into his room. He decided against playing the game again, instead surfing the net idly in his bed. 

True to her word, she called him down when food was ready, ushering him towards the table where...Only one bowl awaited. Peter stopped in the doorway and frowned. "Where's Mom? And Dad?" He asked, approaching the table almost cautiously. Antia cast him a sympathetic glance. 

"Your parents are invested in their work, my sweet. They had their meals sent up". Peter tried not to deflate, but was cheered up when Anita brought out a small bowl of her own and joined him at the table, filling what would have been a lonely, silent meal. 

He was back in his room and preparing for bed when someone knocked on the door, and he called out for them to enter as he set down his hairbrush. He was surprised to find that it was his Mother the door swung open to reveal, and he offered her a curious half-smile. "Yes, Mother?" He asked, and she gave him a weak smile of her own, stepping into the room and gingerly sitting down besides him. 

"I'm sorry I missed supper tonight, my dear. I was so busy with this new start up. How was it?" She asked, and Peter gave a small shrug. He knew his Mother was launching a charity for domestic abuse victims, so he tried not to feel too cheated that she was even more withdrawn than usual. 

"It was great. I think she used some new herbs and stuff, but it was good. Anita kept me company". He didn't say it spitefully, but guilt flashed across her face all the same, and she reached out to lightly stroke his hair, smiling sadly at him. 

"I promise we will both be there tomorrow, Peter. You can tell us all about your studies and your friends" she replied gently, and leaned forwards to kiss his temple. "Rest well, my dear. Goodnight". Peter watched her leave, both cheered and somewhat saddened. He knew he had a better life than most, but...He'd trade all the wealth they had for parents who were there. Who valued him over their financial exploits. Who hadn't driven one of their children into leaving. 

Peter sighed, and leapt a smile when his phone began to shriek in his pocket. He fumbled for it clumsily, mashing the green accept button and raising it without really looking at the screen. "Hello?" He enquired, tugging at his duvet to slide underneath it. 

"Hey, Peter". 

_Tony_. 

"Tony! Hey! Hi. I didn't expect you to call" Peter breathed, sinking down into his bed and rolling onto his side. He switched the call to speaker, setting the phone on his pillow so that he could curl on his side, comfortable as he gazed at the phone adoringly. Tony was calling him after a date. 

"Well, I have some amazing news that I think has to be shared" Tony responded, voice looted like he was grinning, and for a brief moment Peter's heart plummeted. Oh, God. He was going to officially say he was dating Steve. Or he was moving even further away. Or Steve had _proposed_ , or- 

"Pete?" 

"I'm here" he croaked, forcing himself and his imagination to heel. It was fine. It was just one of their semi-usual catch up calls. "What...What's the news?" He asked, forcing himself to sound jovial. Maybe it was just something dumb like Tony had found a painting for himself. 

"I've given it some careful thought and...I'm gonna come home next weekend" Tony drawled, none of the previous fanfare but a cocky laziness, as though merely announcing that he'd done the dishes or something. 

Peter blinked, and remembered how to breathe, staring at his phone with wide, imploring eyed. Tony had said...But he didn't... _Coming home_. His mind flashed with images of laying at Tony's side on his bed, of visiting the diners and of talking endlessly. And if Tony was coming home, then maybe that meant Tony was staying. At least for one night. And. 

And fuck, he had to say something. 

"You mean it?" He asked breathlessly, fingers gripping at his pillow. "You're actually gonna come back?" It seemed like a lie, like at any moment Tony was gonna laugh and ask in what world would he ever return to the place that he hated the most, even for Peter, and then- 

"Mm. I mean, I just kept thinking about the ice cream shack, and...Okay, fine. I was mostly thinking about seeing my dorky little brother for an entire two nights, sue me". 

Two. 

"Two?" Peter hiccupped, heart squeezing in his chest. He'd barely even dared to hope, but here Tony was, wrapping himself around Peter's heart and burying deep within his bones, settling there with familiar warmth. 

"Yep. Sorted it with my professors and everything. I get to miss my last class on Friday so I can travel down and make it for the late evening. That gives us all of Saturday together, and I can put off leaving until about mid-day on Sunday". Tony said it nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, but Peter felt alight, floating. 

"I...Wow. I mean. You're gonna come home. This is...I can't wait". Nor could he stop the stupid grin that spread across his face, no matter how hard he tried. They talked for a little while longer, Tony complaining about the art gallery and Peter wistfully pretending this had nothing to do with Steve. Not when he was day-dreaming about having Tony to himself for an entire weekend. Back home, as if nothing had ever changed and he was still just a little brother, basking in the single-minded love of his sibling.

He fell asleep and dreamt of wandering a gallery, long white walls and each painting faceless bodies, entangled together, passionate. A sense of longing, envy. When he woke up the dream faded rapidly from his clutches and he sighed, scrubbing at his eyes. Would it ever end? Would he be thirty and married and still waking up with his brother's name on his lips? Or, for that matter, would this love disrupt him for the rest of his life, leaving him bitter and alone when Tony had flourished and found the love of his life? 

Peter threw the covers off, and headed for the shower. He still had a week until Tony came home, but he found himself already pottering about as his hair dried, neatening his bookshelf, tidying his room and even hauling the vacuum up the stairs to scrub at his floor intensely. He was pretty clean in general, no candy wrappers or old magazines left about, but he found himself still fretting. Did his room make him look like a little kid? Was it too childish? He had LEGO here and there, but in general his room was neat and modern. 

Frustrated, he called Ned. 

"You're worried that the brother, who grew up with you as a literal child, will see you as childish?"

Peter paused where he had been frantically organising his pens in colour groups, raising his head to frown at the wall. Huh. "Well, when you put it that way, I just feel stupid" he scowled, but he was pretty much done with the pens as it stood anyway, so he sorted the last few blues into their section and sat back into his chair, crossing his ankles together and adjusting the volume on the speaker so he could talk to Ned whilst gesturing wildly. 

"I just! He's like, an adult. Now. And I mean, we're Starks, right? That kinda explains it all. But I guess I look up to him, and I don't wanna look like a baby while he's out there with college courses and boyfriends and being all independent and stuff". Peter paused, then tacked on a meek "Or a girlfriend" on the end, because it was be rude to disregard the fact that if they identified as human and had a pulse, his brother would be a lecherous pervert. Peter ought to know - He'd grown up with the fact. 

"Tony grew up with your pooping in a diaper and being a snotty, gross little kid, Peter. I mean, that kinda stuff has to stick with you, right? If I saw you poop your pants and eat dirt, I'm pretty sure that's all I'd ever see when I looked at you. Like you'd be walking down the isle and all I could think of is-"

" _Thank you_! Ned. Really. So helpful" Peter rolled his eyes and pulled a pen from his pot, tapping it against the desk restlessly as Ned laughed, and then settled down. 

"Okay, okay. Well, what about googling something like 'adult bedroom'? Wait, no. I'm fairly sure that's a porn category". Peter snickered and swung his legs, tapping out a three-beat pattern as he listened to Ned ramble. Was this what Tony was like, listening to him? "Uh. Watch kiddie adverts and anything that features in them, throw out the window?" 

"Why litter? I could just put them in the bin" Peter reasoned, and Ned made a confirming sound. 

"True, true. In the bin, then. Where Flash belongs". 

Peter tossed his head back on a laugh, and kept Ned connected on the speaker as he roamed his room. He couldn't really find anything _too_ incriminating, just his movie posters and his LEGO sets. All his figurines and his other stuff was still boxed away from the last time he'd redecorated his room. Howard had threatened to throw them out, so Peter had stashed them safely in the attic. He lamented their lack of presence, but was thankful for the lack of additional cleaning. Mid-way through their rambling about the latest LEGO sets, Anita knocked softly on his door. Surprised, Peter glanced at the time, and found that he and Ned had passed away the majority of the day. It was supper time already. 

"Shit, man. I gotta go; Mom is doing her 'good parent' thing again and we're all having supper. I'll text you soon, okay?" Peter rushed into the phone, barely letting Ned get halfway through a cheerful goodbye before he hit the end call button and scrambled to join Anita in the stairwell, smoothing down his hair and straightening his shirt. Anita gave him a gentle smile and ushered him down the stairs, neither of them keen on keeping his parents waiting. It occurred to him then that he was likely going to have to break the news of Tony's visit to them himself, and he nearly tripped off the bottom step. 

When he entered the dining room, Howard and Maria were already sat at the table, Maria with her typical margarita and Howard with his standard slug of whiskey. Maria smiled sunnily at him when he moved to sit, and Howard inclined his head, a curt greeting. Peter sank into the chair, forcing himself to relax and put a pleasant smile on his face. He didn't truly hate his parents. For all their shortfalls he knew he could have it far, far worse than he did. They were just...Difficult to be around, often. He supposed it would be better when he was also moved out, when it was just strained family dinners and holiday visits. 

Peter paused, mid folding the napkin over his thighs. Huh. Holiday visits. Would Tony even...? 

"Peter, dearest. Your father has something exciting to share with you" Maria announced over the rim of her drink, eyes crinkled as he reached over to squeeze Howard's hand. Peter's heart flipped slightly, and he forgot how to breathe for the briefest of moments, before Howard cleared his throat, gaze falling on Peter from across the table. 

"I've decided that Stark Industries will be split evenly between you and your brother" Howard stated, calm and disinterested. Peter's stomach paused mid-flop, and raised its metaphorical brow. It took everything in Peter not to blurt out _that's it?!_ Because that would most definitely _not_ be the reaction that Howard was expecting. In fact, it was actually good news, considering. Tony had the age and the business smarts to run the company, and them owning it together meant there was none of the awkward hostility of choosing one son over the other. It also meant that Peter could keep Tony's aloofness in check. 

"Your brother, despite his other...Shortfalls, has a good head on him for business. With you there to keep him in check and to make the smart choices when he's acting like a fool, I'm confident the reputation will be upheld" Howard continued, and Peter forced a radiant smile onto his face. On the note of Tony, this was the perfect time to bring up his visit. 

"That's amazing! I mean, it'll be a good thing, right? The whole Stark family in the business. And...You can actually tell him yourself. In person, I mean. Next Friday. He's coming home" Peter managed, Anita and Joffrey swooping in with their bowls. It smelled divine, and they were all several spoonfuls in before Howard spoke again, frustratingly neutral. 

"I suppose telling him to his face is appropriate". 

And. That was...It. Peter waited, but nothing more came until Maria turned to Peter, casting him another soft smile. "That's wonderful, Peter. I know you've missed him so. I'm sure your father and I will be able to join you both for supper over the weekend" she soothed, squeezing his arm before blowing delicately on another spoonful of soup. 

Right. 

Peter heaved a sigh and frowned into his bowl. That was, apparently, it. Howard gave a low hum as though in agreement with his wife, and the silence descended again. It saddened Peter, being the only one truly excited for Tony to come home, and he could certainly understand why his brother was reluctant. And yet...He was doing it. For Peter, he was doing it, and the boy smiled quietly into his bowl for the rest of the meal, ignited with the idea of spending more or less the entire weekend with his brother again. It was going to be amazing, he was sure. After food he excused him quickly to his room, scouring for his phone. 

He was about to swipe onto Tony's name when an email notification from FSLO popped up, and he bit his lip, before turning away from his phone and making for his computer. 

Sue him, he deserved a little time to relax, didn't he? 

'A little time' became most of Sunday, and then after school on Monday, and he was only saved from wasting another night on the game by Tony calling him relatively early. He was already in bed when his phone began to vibrate, laptop open and the website URL halfway typed in. Peter picked up the phone and blinked at the screen, Tony's icon staring back at him before he drew it to his ear. Why was Tony calling so early? Was he cancelling? 

"Stark residence speaking" he chirped, pushing his laptop aside. Tony's deep chuckle reverberated in his ear, and he breathed out, curling up comfortably and propping his phone so he could listen to Tony's voice. The voice he was gonna hear in person, really, really soon. That was one thing he'd missed the most about Tony - His smooth drawl. The way it went deeper when he was sleepy, slurrier and warmer. The way it lilted when he was happy or when he was sassing Peter into the next week. 

"Hey, Puppy. How're you doing?" Tony sounded soft, sort of sleepy but more like he was relaxed. Peter imaged him curled up in bed in a similar way, tucked under his sheets and smiling at his phone. 

"Oh, good. I was just gonna study in bed a little" he fibbed, still a little twisty about telling anyone bar Ned about the game. 

"Yeah? Nerd" Tony shot, and Peter rolled his eyes with a snicker. Yeah, sure. Because _he_ was the nerd out of the two of them. 

"Hey, you're taking three majors" Peter pointed out, and there was a gentle lull of silence as Tony considered his defeat. 

"Yeah, well. I've got the smarts for it. Anyway, I was just calling to...Check up? I don't know. Whatever reasons I usually call you for" Tony hummed dismissively, and Peter couldn't help a slow smile. He doubted his brother would ever change, no matter how old he got. The idle rambling, the bouncing from topic to topic. Some found it hard to follow, but Peter could sit there and listen to Tony talking for _hours_. 

"I'm good. We had soup for supper. I helped Anita to do like, the veggies and stuff, and I didn't cut myself. I uh...I also told them. Mom and Dad, I mean. That you're coming for the weekend. They fake-promised to all have supper together". Peter doubted it would happen, honestly. Tony would rather launch himself out of a window than eat with them, and Howard wasn't likely to care much about a brief visit. And selfishly, he wanted to keep his brother to himself for the weekend. He didn't want the tension of Howard and Tony spoiling the brief time they had together. 

"Yeah, well. We all know how that goes, kid" Tony breathed, before plowing on with vigour. "But! Hey. A whole weekend together. That's great. I can't wait to see you again, and to get some ice cream. It'll kinda be just like when you were little, and I used to take you out all the time". 

Peter's heart clenched. He hadn't grown up with Howard as a father; he'd grown up with an older brother as a father. With Tony fulfilling the nurturing role that Howard deemed out of his responsibilities as a 'sire'. The family staff had taught Tony to walk, and in turn, Tony had taught Peter. It had been Tony making sure Peter was dressed and ready for school. Tony holding his hand through all of the fights, all of the long nights where Howard found his way to the bottom of a bottle or three. Tony had raised Peter as much a father figure as a brother, and part of Peter ached for Tony's lost childhood. Both in having to raise a sibling, and in having his own parental experiences come almost exclusively from the staff. 

"I'm gonna buy yours, though. Its only fair, since you bought my burger" Peter reasoned, trying to keep his tone light. He couldn't really change the past, but he could certainly take a step towards trying to make up for it, right? 

"Oh, yeah? Gonna treat me, huh? Spoil me like one of your gals?" Tony teased, and Peter snorted, eyes rolling even as he flushed at the thought. He could do that. He could spoil Tony. He could treat him to nice things like ice cream and riding his di- 

"Don't get used to it" he warned jokingly instead, fingers digging into his thigh as he shuffled on his bed, forcing away the image of sharing ice cream with Tony while grinding over his cock. Licking the sweet taste from his mouth. 

He needed help. Maybe a little therapy. 

"Mm, I won't. It's my job to spoil you, anyway. Get you all the treats you want like a good Puppy". And it was just teasing; it was just Tony's natural default, but Peter's hand jerked upwards, onto his cock which he gave a gratifying squeeze. Fuck, that sentence would haunt him to his very grave. He would be on his death bed and that sentence, paired with Tony's almost sultry sleepy-tone would echo through his ears like a ghost. He immediately knew he wasn't gonna go straight to sleep that night, and he heaved a soft sigh, forcing his grip to relax. Stroking himself to release while on call with his brother was a boundary he wasn't going to touch. A consent matter he wasn't going to violate. 

"You _do_ have a knack for picking good birthday presents" he relented, desperately trying to steer the conversation to a different course. It worked, thankfully, and they spent the next hour talking idly about past birthdays and the best or worst gifts they'd ever been given. Howard wasn't a big believer in birthdays and gifts, but he _was_ a firm believer in social status and flaunting his wealth, so he would always bestow a lavish choice on the boys at a very public, very press-covered birthday celebration. 

Surprisingly, by the end of the call, the heat of Tony's words had faded, and Peter found himself feeling emotionally soft, warmed by their familial talk. Tony had this magical way of just _comforting_ Peter in a way that sank into his bones and left him feeling more content than a ion with its kill, or a house-cat napping on soft blankets. He lay there for the longest moment after their call, staring listlessly at the ceiling and thinking about how different his life was now, compared to a bare two months ago. He bit his lip and shifted, rolling over so that he way laying, facing the ceiling. Enough was enough, he decided. 

Starting tomorrow, he wasn't going to be little Peter Stark anymore. No more acting like a dumb kid, no more being looked at as a child by his brother. He was gonna work hard, act like a grown up, and (hopefully) get over his brother. 

Naturally, of course, this vow invited a landslide of shit in its wake. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, the prodigal disappointment returns! I feel a little bad at how slow this work is going, so I threw a little spice into this chapter! Major shoutout to Silky and Olivia for quite literally being the biggest fans of this work. I can only apologise for the lack of updates. I got somewhat stuck with this for a little while then got distracted by Geraskier.

Firstly; who was he kidding? ' _No more little Peter Stark_ '. Standing in the midst of his room with his hands on his hips and Ned thoroughly distracted from their task he came to the solid conclusion that this wasn't going to work. He sighed and looked over his shoulder at Ned, frowning when he found him balancing two Star Wars LEGO pieces on his knees and narrating a dramatic stand-off scene. 

"Ned. How is that helping me sort out my life and into maturity?" 

Ned looked up with a guilty expression, made a meek little 'pew, ahhh' ending to his dramatic play out and set the LEGO pieces aside, pushing himself to his feet with a sheepish grin. "Sorry. What are we doing again?" 

Peter sighed and gestured to his closet with a frown, tipping his head. "Trying to make me look like less of a..."

"High school kid? Which, you know. You _are_ ". 

Peter stuck his tongue out at him but nodded, leaning against the wall of his closer as Ned stepped into it and rummaged around, making thoughtful noises here and there. Peter watched with a semi-nervous edge, teeth against his lower lip as Ned pulled down a NASA shirt, gave it an appraising nod, and put it back. He blew out a relieved breath; he _liked_ that shirt. "There's a lot of science pun shirts here" Ned remarked as he held up two different garments. [One](https://secure38.prositehosting.co.uk/aimages/00011/MP-WHT.jpg) was Peter's personal favourite, a gift from Anita three Christmases ago and [the other](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/ca/5a/e8/ca5ae86a001e7b8f2cd16a0c560fb7c2.jpg) was one he'd ordered online himself. 

"I like science puns" he shrugged, taking the shirts protectively from Ned's judgemental grasp. Ned looked behind himself at the rows of hanging clothes and raised a brow. 

"A _lot_ " he repeated. 

Peter frowned and clutched his shirts tighter. "I'm nerdy, and I _like_ it!"

"Good _Friends_ reference" Ned noted approvingly, and Peter cocked his head.

"Good what?"

"Oh my _God_ ".

So. It was quite clear that they (he) had failed on the whole 'maturing and growing up' thing. And that was actually, somewhat, okay with him. Because the more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was just a kid and that Ned also had a point - Tony had seen him at far worse than a punny shirt and chocolate smeared around his mouth. Really, he'd set himself up to fail, shooting for the moon and landing straight back on his ass in the dirt.

But maybe, maybe he'd _already_ started to mature, maybe he was already a little more grown up than he had been, because that didn't upset him as much as he thought it should. He asked Clint about it, later that night. 

**》SciencePup2001: How do you know if you've grown up?**

**》NotQuiteLegolas: Grown up? Like, height wise or age?**

**》SciencePup2001: Age, I guess. Or like...Does a personality grow up? I don't know. But I told myself a few days ago I was going to grow up and not be a kid anymore, but then I remembered that I _am_ a kid, and now I'm just confused. I like nerdy stuff and LEGO and science but my brother was never like this when he was the same age as me. He was always grown up right away. He dressed older and acted older and everyone treated him older. And I don't know if I know _how_ to grow up. **

**》NotQuiteLegolas: Huh. Straight into the deep end, huh? Well, okay. The first thing to consider is; do you want to grow up, or do you just want people to treat you with the respect and trust they treat other adults with? Because lets face it, kids and teens always get treated like they can't do anything or decide anything or think for themselves, until you hit 18 and suddenly you're magically an adult with all this wisdom and freedom and a hundred new expectations.**

**》NotQuiteLegolas: So much weight is put on 'growing up' and 'maturing' but we live for, on average, 80 years. Why are we expected to force ourselves to reach or do certain things by such an early age, in comparison to how long we live? Animals need to reach certain milestones and learn certain things early for survival, but we don't. Almost every single aspect of human behaviour, culture and sociology these days is fabricated.**

**》NotQuiteLegolas: Half the adults I know act 'immature' on a daily basis, but I've seen those same people stop others from getting mugged, work 40 hour days and raise their own kids. 'Growing up' isn't a biological necessity, its a sociological ideal that's been fabricated based on the expectations of other people and capitalist greed. You're only going to be a 'kid' for so long. Make the most of it. F*ck anyone else.**

**》SciencePup2001: You should be a counsellor. That was a pretty good rant. So you're saying I should just...Grow up at my own pace?**

**》NotQuiteLegoas: God, no. I'd suck at actual therapy. All of my friends know not to come to me for advice. I'm just saying that the notion that** **being an adult means you're suddenly mature and capable of meeting all these ridiculous expectations is f*cked and that half the time, kids who** **want to 'grow up' just want to be listened to and treated with the same respect and trust that other adults are given.**

Peter leaned back, teeth set against his lower lip. The more that he thought about it, the more it actually made sense. Especially when he realised that that was exactly how he'd felt when he'd wanted to grow up for Tony. Because that was all it had boiled down to; _Tony_. He hadn't wanted to 'mature' and dress like a middle-aged tax accountant. He hadn't wanted to throw out all his LEGO and replace the sets with houseplants or electric bills or whatever adults decorated their houses with. He'd just wanted Tony to see him the same way he saw _Steve_. 

He was already smarter than a lot of adults anyway; the only reason he was still in high school is because like Tony, he'd chosen to do the full ride. Get the full experience of being normal and embrace the notion of freedom before he inevitably became chained to Stark Industries to moment that Howard decided they were ready. 

He'd made a connotation between Steve being older and more mature and that being what Tony wanted; when in reality it was as basic as the fact that Peter was Tony's brother and he would never have what Steve had, no matter how 'mature' he became. 

He closed his laptop, put on his punniest t-shirt and went to bed without checking his phone. 

He decided when he woke up that he might not be ready to grow up yet, but there were still some things he could do, and so when they got to homeroom the next morning and he noticed MJ creeping towards her usual, lonely seat at the back, he waved her down and gestured to the seat besides him and Ned. She looked almost alarmed for a moment, cautious as she realised what he was wordlessly suggesting and for a moment he thought she was going to ignore him entirely and go to the back of the room when she hiked her bag a little higher and moved across the classroom, settling somewhat awkwardly to his right. 

He greeted her warmly but decided not to push her too much, unpacking his planner and ignoring the curious but somewhat appraising look that Ned sent him. He couldn't help the tiny smile, though, that little glimmer of warmth that flooded through him as he realised he was doing something good. Something he should have done a long time ago. He'd been far too content to let MJ linger awkwardly on the outskirts of their friendship group, too used to just having Ned to pay much attention to how lonely the other girl actually was, and how undervalued he'd held her. 

He risked a glance to the side under the guise of digging for his phone, and was pleased to find that she had settled in her seat with the smallest of smiles imprinted on her mouth. 

"You look the same" Ned pointed out as the tutor began to call the register, and Peter shrugged a little, fighting off another smile. 

"I got given some good advice. Growing up is over-rated". 

"Alright, Peter Pan" Ned smirked at him, but there was warmth in his eyes. 

At lunch, Peter made sure to deliberately invite MJ to sit with them as they filed out of the classroom, and she eyed him with the same optimistic suspicion but agreed none the less, accepting Peter's offer of getting her lunch while she snagged them a table. He got them both chicken sandwiches and orange juice and balanced the two trays carefully back to the table. She was still quiet throughout the hour, preferring the company of her book to his and Ned's argument on who was cooler between Cyclops and Wolverine, but at the end of the day as she walked past them on her way out she called out "see you tomorrow, nerds!" and Peter was left feeling distinctly brighter than he had the night before. 

He did it again the next morning, gesturing to the seat next to Ned with a broad smile, and by the morning after that she moved to their row of her own accord, kicking back into her seat and greeting them with a lazy "'sup, losers?"

"I thought you liked dudes?" Ned asked once she'd excused herself to the bathroom at lunch, and Peter paused his grim inspection of what was supposed to be meatloaf. 

"I do" he replied quizzically, brows furrowing a little. He didn't _exclusively_ like men, but they were definitely ahead in his preferences, and it was rare here and there to find a girl he liked.

"Oh. Then why are you trying to cosy up to MJ?" Ned's nose wrinkled, and Peter let go of his fork with a frown. 

"What? What makes you think that?"

"Well, you've been like, deliberately asking her to sit with us, and you've been smiling at her a lot". Ned said it as though it explained the answer to life, and Peter blinked across at him for a few moments. 

"Its called making friends, Ned. Something neither of us are particularly good at. I dunno, I just figured she's usually on the outskirts, y'know?" He shrugged lightly and ebgan to process of wrestling his fork back from the depths of that mystery meat. "Besides, she's dating Gwen, anyway. I'm pretty sure this is one of the periods where they're together again". Gwen wasn't around a lot because she was mostly homeschooled, but on the days she was here it was always a coin toss whether her and MJ were on speaking terms or not. 

Ned was quiet for a long moment. 

"Really? Are you sure?"

"They were kissing in front of her locker last week. I'm fairly certain".

"Isn't that just what girls do anyway? They've got that like, weird bond with each other".

Peter glanced pityingly across at his friend, gave him a pat on the shoulder, then went back to attempting to eat. 

MJ hadn't been sat down again for more than five seconds before Ned piped up. "Are you a lesbian?"

Peter cast Ned an appalled look, but MJ simply levelled him with one of her flat, disinterested stares. "Have been for the past five years. Thanks for noticing". 

He decided to log into FSLO that night to log in some hours before the weekend, and to let Clint know that he wouldn't be around for a few days. He didn't want to play in front of Tony; not least because it would mean eating up valuable time they had together before Tony had to leave again, and God knows when Tony would be around after that. Clint wasn't online when he settled down atop his bed and logged in, but he sent him a message anyway to let him know what was going on and decided that an hour or two of play couldn't hurt. 

He put on his headphones so he could immerse himself in the soft music and the bright colours and set about completing mini quests. It was relaxing and as usual he found himself staying far longer than intended, glancing at the clock and sucking in air through his teeth before he decided to find a tavern, hit a save point and shut it down for some sleep. It wouldn't do to be tired on the day that Tony came home, after all. 

Except when he entered the tavern his fingers nearly skittered along the keyboard and he found himself staring with baited breath at the glowing figure of TheIronMan, who's character was sat at the bar of the tavern, watching the NPC barmaid wipe a dirty glass on an endless loop. It had been ages since they'd last run into each other, and Peter supposed it couldn't hurt to thank the guy (?) for his (?) selfless act of heroism prior. His cheeks heated as he thought about their first conversation, and he was so eager to click on **> Friendly** in the drop-down menu that he missed it completely and watching in absolute mortification as he clicked on **> Flirting** instead. 

"Oh. Oh no" he whispered to himself. He was still fairly far away from where the other character was seated, and he quickly spun his own around, bolting for the doorway when the chat box opened up with a new direct message. 

**》TheIronMan: Mother always said not to feed strays or they'd keep coming back for more. Bold move, kid. But my Robin Hood doesn't need a Maid Marian.**

Peter's cheeks flared red and he stared at the screen, fingers dithering over the keyboard. What did he say to that? He was both embarrassed and humiliated, and perhaps, annoyingly, a little amused. 

**》SciencePup2001: Oh, don't flatter yourself. I wasn't looking properly when I hit the action tab. I only like men who's cocks can at least compete with their egos.**

He hadn't thought it possible for his cheeks to get even hotter, but they felt like they were on fire now as he stared in horror at the screen. Oh, God. Why had he said that? What could have possibly possessed him to say _that_? Why did talking to this guy always seen to bring out some snarky, sex-oriented degenerate?

To his surprise The IronMan's character was silent for a moment, then the **> Amused** action was selected and he watched as their friendship bar rose by +2 points.

**》TheIronMan: Alright, alright. I concede. That was good, kid. You're surprisingly quick.**

**》SciencePup2001: What can I say? You seem to bring out the worst in me.**

**》SciencePup2001: Genuinely, though, sorry. I meant to hit 'friendly'. I wanted to say thanks again for what you did the other day.**

**》TheIronMan: Don't milk it. If my ego gets any bigger its gonna explode. I just don't care for people who take advantage of other people. Half the people on this game are kids; and I'll bet they're either acned up past-teens looking to bully or neckbeards living in their Mom's basement looking for easy pickings.**

**》SciencePup2001: What makes you think I'm a kid?**

**》TheIronMan: You tried to reason with them, offered for them to take all your stuff, and your name is _SciencePup_. That, and, I'm gonna go on a limb here and say that 2001 is your birth year. **

Peter blinked at the screen, and couldn't help the slight smile. Just to make it fair, he dropped down the action menu and hit **> Amused**. Their friendship bar went up by +0.5 points. Early friendship gains were slow going, never more than +5 points, but the more you played together and the more your characters interacted the faster it filled up. Peter found himself sitting at the bar next to TheIronMan as he typed out his reply. By the time he glanced at the clock and realised with dawning horror that it was starting to get light out, their friendship bar was on 12 points and he'd learned a fair bit more about TheIronMan than he supposed almost anyone did. 

He reluctantly informed his new companion that he had to log off because he had about two hours to try and desperately nap before school (and pointedly ignored his victory about his correct assumption) and was surprised to find after he'd logged off and was brushing his teeth that his phone vibrated with an email. 

He stared at it for a moment, a smile fighting its way onto his face. He tapped the accept option and let it load enough to run the request, then tapped the home button and spit out his toothpaste. He flossed and crawled into bed, then paused. Before he plugged his phone in to charge he swiped onto his messages, tapping Tony's name. 

**[Me] I can't wait to see you later. Thank you for coming back. [04:13]**

He settled down and it felt like not five minutes later he was groggily crawling back to the bathroom after slapping his alarm off, leaning heavily against the sink as he brushed his teeth. When he eventually managed to drag himself into class Gwen, MJ and Ned all looked at him with matching looks of apprehensive pity. 

"You look awful, dude" Ned greeted the moment he collapsed into his seat, and Gwen wordlessly reached into her bag, handing him a sports bottle that when he took a tentative sniff reeked of energy drink. He stared at it for a moment before he cut his losses and took a large sip, cringing at the overly sugary taste but knowing it would pay off eventually. He was barely alert enough to answer when his name was called, and he forwent lunch in order to catnap against Ned's shoulder as he and Gwen argued about which soda was the most superior in terms of flavour against price. 

Tony had messaged him three times already, and each time Peter doggedly squinted at his screen to reply, hit with a flooding rush of warmth each time that managed to chase away the tiredness for all of ten seconds. Tony was as excited as he was - or at the least, was pretending to be, and by the end of classes Peter had already made him promise to come straight back, only stop for gas or to pee, and to give him a hug for no less than 30 solid seconds upon entering. 

Howard was, of course, nowhere to be seen when he stumbled through the front door, and Maria was in the hallway preening in a mirror, touching up her lipstick and dressed in an evening dress and overcoat. "You're going out?" He asked, dismay dripping from every word. Maria glanced across at him, cast him a serene smile that said she was already two strips into her Xanax, and turned back to the mirror, blotting a tissue against her lipstick. 

"Why yes, darling, I have an afternoon tea with the other wives. British themed, don't you know" she replied loftily, setting the tissue down, patting at her curls and then sweeping past him in a breeze of perfume, pressing a kiss against his cheek that left an oily, red kiss mark. Peter turned to watch her go, sadness and a little bit of anger twisting in his chest. 

"You can't go!" He blurted out, and watched her pause in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at him in concern. 

"Why ever not, dearest? Do you feel unwell? Go lay in bed, I'll tell Anita to bring you some-"

"Tony's coming home today" Peter cut her off, pointed and firm. She blinked at him for a moment, as though it made no sense, then gave a light, tinkling laugh and waved a dismissive hand. 

"Oh, sweetheart. No need to worry about that. Its only tea, I'll be back in plenty of time to greet your brother and hear all about his journey". She said it in much the way that parents insisted Santa was real, airy and just a little condescending as she blew another kiss at him and slipped out of the door, shutting it on his offended sputtering. He stared at the wood for a moment longer, bitterness and resentment stinging at his eyes. Just once he wanted a normal family. A Dad who cared and a Mother who wasn't permanently at the bottom of a wine bottle or two strips into a packet of pills. 

It wasn't fair. Not really. Sure, they had money and successful, but it had come at the cost of any actual relationship with their parents. They'd traded affection for wealth and a bond for a legacy. 

Exhausted and sad, he dragged himself into the library and sank onto the huge, regal couch there, tugging out his phone to check the time. It was only six in the afternoon, and Tony wasn't likely to get here until around half seven or eight. He was just reading over their last messages with a smile when Anita stepped into the room, smiling at him warmly. 

"Ah, _pequeño cachorro_. Excited?" She asked him as she straightened out the books on one of the shelves, dusting them down gently, and he cast her a broad smile. 

"I can't wait. I feels like its been forever. Its so strange living without him. Its like...It feels..."

"Empty?" She guessed with a raised brow, coming closer to cup his cheek gently. "You love him very much, yes? He loves you too. But _dios mio_ , those dark eyes. I'll get you lemon water and some cold cucumber slices. You wait".

He pet at his undereyes self-consciously as she walked away and sank down against the arm of the couch, gut coiling with nerves. He probably looked a mess and he was still wearing his clothes from school, but he didn't even want to go upstairs, not doubting for a moment that the second he turned his back Tony would walk through the doors. His neck ached a little from the awkward way that he was sprawled and so he shifted, cushioning his head on his arm. 

He didn't remember falling asleep. 

_Heat crawled through his body, burning him up from the inside out. Something - no, someone was moving against him, a warm, soft-skinned, solid body. Stubble rasped along his cheek, a delicious, scraping fire that made his hips jump forwards. "Tony, please"._

_Tony?_

_"I've got you, puppy". And then pressure against his cock, firm and tight. It sent a jolt of pleasure through his body, stomach tensing and lips parting on a gasp. "That's it, pup. Moan for me". Tony's voice was low and gravelly in his ear and he whimpered, shifting towards it. He was so hard it almost hurt, cock straining upwards and thighs shaking lightly as Tony's hands drifted around his hips, then settled on his shoulders._

_"Peter, I'm here"._

_"Mm, fuck, Tony" he moaned in reply, shivering as delight as a hand pushed through his hair, snagging on cocoa coloured curls lightly. His orgasm was so close he could feel it, hips hitching forwards against the solid pressure. Was that Tony's leg?_

_"Peter?"_

_Yes? Anything. God, anything Tony had to say, he was willing to listen. Do, even. God, the idea of Tony ordering him to anything made him rut down again, whining softly._

"Hey, Peter. Wake up, pup". 

He came to slowly, groggy and with the slightest of headaches. He became immediately aware of two things. One, he was hard as a rock, cock straining against the front of his jeans and the pillow between his thighs, and two, he was staring straight into his brother's eyes. Tony blinked down at him, an unreadable half smile on his mouth. 

"Good dream?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious to know your thoughts, ideas and hopes for this fic. Feel free to comment below or to send me a message/ask on Tumblr!  
> In order; Anita says 'little puppy' and then 'my god'.


	5. Fanart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So this isn't an actual chapter update but I just wanted to showcase the absolutely adorable fanart that was done by an absolutely wonderful creator for this fanfic. I was immediately in love with this and wanted to give it its own little dedication in the work!  
> She even got Tony's little horse, their bedsheets, the game URL and their individual costumes. Their wee little headphones even match 🥺
> 
> Please go ahead and give Starkly's post a [a like and reblog!](https://starkly.tumblr.com/post/629703682864349184/fanart-for-brothers-in-this-world-lovers-in-our)


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